


Hadal Treasures

by Kirity



Category: Sekiro: Shadows Die Twice (Video Game)
Genre: Aphrodisiacs, Cervix Penetration, Child Death, Cunnilingus, Forced Pregnancy, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kid Fic, M/M, Merman!Genichiro, Monsters, Oviposition, Self-Harm, Squirting, Trans!Wolf, Vaginal Sex, mermaid au, thalassophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:14:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 46,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21947914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kirity/pseuds/Kirity
Summary: Wolf's childhood had been full of blood and steel and very little by way of stories, but even he knows the legend of mermaids. To partake of their flesh is to obtain immortality.He learns quickly that the legends go far deeper than he ever could've imagined.
Relationships: Genichiro Ashina/Sekiro | Wolf
Comments: 37
Kudos: 193





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In case anyone is wondering, yes, this one is also a result of too many nasty posts to the Genikiro server on discord. I'd like to thank Catharticism, Vigils, sciencefictioness, and voids for egging me on (literally).
> 
> [ I would also like to thank my fellow nasty Cris for this incredible fan art!](https://twitter.com/daudsbreeches/status/1211768215254261760)   
>  [ And Yahargulian for putting this beautiful playlist together for the fic! ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1MS7ziZus5oWVUd5t9S2i9?si=3NXT6NRTQv6HTA8CNGXvPw)   
>  [ Here's my twitter account if you want to come and yell at me! ](https://twitter.com/McKirity)   
>  [ And here's the Genikiro discord server if you want to hang out.](https://discord.gg/Kp7BjHVz8h)

As a shinobi, Wolf knows that his father and master's words are law. And as a shinobi, he can't help but feel that his skills are being a little wasted right now.

He understands, of course. His master is on the brink of war with the neighboring country, and he needs whatever upper hand he can get before violence erupts. It’s why Wolf had been given the task of traveling to enemy lands in order to gather intelligence. Blend in with the local populace, skulk around manors, and pass along anything useful to his father. Espionage at its most basic. The sort of thing he used to do as a trainee, though Wolf knows better than to say anything.

There’s a village by the ocean, ruled over by a highly-trusted retainer. The retainer in question lives in a fortress, and the fortress just so happens to be a major launching point for his master’s intended invasion. Wolf had been ordered to gather as much information on it as he possibly could: the number of samurai, guards, gunpowder, bullets, food reserves, and so forth. Slipping onto the property is easy enough, and by sundown, he's scraped together a fairly decent estimate of everything he needs. Wolf is considering the merits of leaving now or testing his luck by raiding the patriarch's office, when he hears, "Gods, you're serious. A mermaid?"

Wolf pauses. He glances down the hallway — silent and empty. He crouches down by the door, cupping a hand to his ear.

"Absolutely serious," comes the reply. "I mean, I don't actually know what it is, but it's got a human face and a fish’s tail. That's mermaid enough for me."

A scoff. "Sounds more like a demon."

"And you're starting to sound like my villagers. Ugly thing was prowling around the boats, stalking them like a shark. No one was dragged off, thank goodness, but... well, we managed to drive it into the cove and seal it inside. I've already sent for a priest, but I've also asked our daimyo to come take a look at the creature. If it really is a mermaid...."

Wolf's childhood had been full of blood and steel and very little by way of stories, but even he knows the legend of mermaids. To partake of their flesh is to obtain immortality. And as he considers the implications of that, his original task quickly falls away. There's something else that needs his attention now. A bigger prey to sink his teeth into. 

* * *

The cove is easy to find. On top of the fact it’s the only cove nearby, the sheer amount of guards and the massive wooden blockade situated across the exit are dead giveaways. The cove is bigger than Wolf expects, just about the size of a small lake, but that only makes it easier for him to slip past the guards. 

As he hunkers down in the shadow of a boulder, he considers some of the nebulous plans he had thought up on his way here. Most of them ended with him killing this mermaid or demon or whatever it is — the fastest and most effective option. But still, even as he rubs his thumb over the hilt of his sword, a part of Wolf remains in disbelief. He knows, in the way that a commoner knows the emperor exists, that all manners of strange creatures live high in the mountains and deep in the forests and call the dark corners of the world home. But to see it with his own eyes...

Wolf shakes off his misgivings. He casts his gaze towards the water, lit in brilliant shades of orange under the setting sun, and waits.

As it turns out, he doesn't have to wait long.

Night falls. It grows dark enough to activate his Night Eye. As he gazes out into the cove, Wolf sees — something. A trick of the light, he thinks at first. Torches reflecting off the surface of the water, broken up by ripples. But torchlight isn't colored in lurid shades of green and blue. Nor does it zip back and forth across the cove with unnatural speed. 

Anticipation rises in his chest. But before Wolf can sit up and get a closer look, the sound of footsteps pull him back.

A pair of guards tromp by. Chattering excitedly, pointing towards the moving colors. Their torches blind his Night Eye, tears springing behind his eyelids. Wolf scowls as they come to a stop at the shore of the lake, close enough he can hardly see past them. It doesn't take long for him to come up with a solution.

Wolf kicks the torch into the water as he drags their unconscious bodies into a nearby bush. Once he’s certain they’re out of sight, he turns around — and goes still.

The colors have moved closer. Very, very close. A face peeks out of the water, at him. Wolf has had precisely zero experience with mermaids, but that doesn't stop him from being taken aback by what he sees. He didn’t expect them to look so... _beastly._

Pitch black eyes. Spiny fins lining its forearm. Its hands, balanced on the surface of the water to keep it afloat, are webbed and tipped with needle-sharp claws. Bright colors emanate from strange, flowing patterns in its skin. When the creature pushes itself closer, Wolf can make out scales traveling down its abdomen before vanishing into the darkness. Inky black hair ripples along the water in its wake. 

The mermaid's face is both human and inhuman. Once it’s close enough that Wolf can probably reach out to touch if he dared, he’s struck by how _big_ it is compared to him. A torso the size of a tree trunk, wide and broad shoulders, and hands big enough to crush his head like an egg. The longer Wolf stares at it, the more he sees a predator than anything maiden-like

Silence stretches between them. The mermaid — merman? — is the first to look away. It slips back into the water with nary a sound, but lingers close. As Wolf watches the colors bob beneath the surface, his mind races ahead.

* * *

In the end, Wolf decides to free the merman.

Now that he's seen the merman up close, he isn't sure if he can kill him. There's no doubt in his mind that the merman is stronger and faster than he is, easily capable of staying away from his blade. Not to mention those claws; Wolf would also prefer not to take his chances against what must be equally sharp teeth. 

He can't just leave him here, of course. Not when his master's enemies want to make use of him. So obviously, the next logical step is to free him. Which is far easier said than done.

It isn't the guards that Wolf is worried about, but rather the blockade sealing the cove. It’s an enormous and heavy thing, the kind of structure that must've been put together by a small army. But as far as Wolf can tell, it had been shoddily built, as if barely more than a bunch of logs cobbled together by rope, fishing nets, and prayers. 

So he puts together an idea. It's not the best idea, but it's an _idea_ and that's already more than what the merman has going for him right now.

Wolf heads down to the village and snatches up as much oil as he can carry. This time, as he returns to the cove, he draws his blade. The path to the blockade is devoid of any rocks or vegetation big enough to hide bodies, so Wolf kicks them into the water. He isn't surprised when he sees those lurid colors swim up close and keep pace with him. His neck grows heavy with the weight of eyes.

Wolf douses the blockade in oil. Not as much as he would like, but when he sees torches frantically bobbing in the distance, he has no choice but to set it ablaze. To his relief, the blockade catches fire and stays on fire. It won't burn all the way down, what with the lower parts submerged in water, but hopefully, it'll burn enough that the structure will collapse on itself instead.

The merman darts back and forth in the water, kicking up choppy waves in his frenzy. Reinforcements, far too late, gather helplessly on the sidelines as the blockade burns. An earsplitting cracks cuts through the air as the ropes give away and logs tumble free into the water. Wolf bites back a curse — he doesn't know how much more the blockade will burn. He wonders if he'll have to jump in and sever the rest of the ropes himself.

A thud. A crack. One of the logs that had come loose suddenly lurches into the water. Wolf watches as the merman surfaces and dig his claws into the wood, thrashing wildly to pull it free. Moments later, the log comes away in a shower of splinters and sparks. A mighty groan splits the air, the unmistakable sound of snapping rope. The blockade comes apart and tumbles into the water.

The last of the merman that Wolf sees is a blur of green and blue bolting out into the ocean.

* * *

The closest thing Wolf has to a home in this country is a small cave by the ocean. It's far enough from the shore that even high-tide won't reach it, and far away from everything else that he doesn't have to worry about people stumbling across it. There's plenty of food to be caught in the ocean, and a nearby river provides all the drinking and cleaning water he needs. It's not the most comfortable accommodation he's ever had, but it's cozy enough. Wolf drags himself all the way back, and curls up on his straw mat for some well-earned sleep.

The next few days are quiet. He jots down his findings on parchment, so that he won't forget anything the next time he meets his father to deliver his report. He cleans his clothes in the river to wash out the smell of smoke and oil, and makes a decent meal out of some fish he'd caught from the ocean. He even treats himself for a job well done: a small plate of ohagi and some dango, bought with a few sen from his meager stash. On his way back to the cave, he overhears a few guards on patrol muttering about the daimyo's visit. Their lord had had a great deal of explaining to do, both for wasting their daimyo's time and for losing such a creature.

Wolf allows himself a tiny smile.

The days are calm. Slow. Had he grown up a commoner, he might even call it peaceful. But it isn't — not for him, at least. Wolf finds himself restless, twitchy. There's not a lot for him to do out here, all by himself. Not until war arrives.

One morning, Wolf wakes up to a strange noise.

He thinks it's a seagull, at first. But a seagull's cry wouldn't pull him out of sleep, no matter how annoying they are. Wolf squeezes open his eyes, and frowns at the rising sun. He nearly drifts off again, when he hears it: a high, short chirp. Like a small animal crying. Very insistently.

Wolf sighs and drags himself upright. He knows he won't be getting any sleep until he deals with it. He stumbles out of the cave, squinting — and freezes.

Wolf thought it would be a once-in-a-lifetime event. Something that would feel more and more like a dream in the coming years when he looks back on it. He had said his goodbyes the moment he saw him vanishing into the darkness of the ocean, bright colors blinking out. They aren't supposed to see each other again — that's not how

stories go. And yet, lying halfway in the water, propped up on his arms, and staring at him with a look that Wolf can only describe as deeply insulted, is the merman.

Wolf finds himself at a complete loss of... _everything_.

A long silence stretches between them. Wolf can't really make out any pupils in the merman's eyes, but he feels as if he's being sized up. With the sun shining over him, Wolf is able to see the red, frilly gashes along the sides of his neck and chest, the spattering of dark blue scales that begin at his navel and end at a tail much longer and thicker than he had expected. Wolf doesn't know why, but the sight of golden scales lining the tail in bold patterns surprises him.

A soft noise reaches his ears. Wolf blinks as the merman bows his head, and reaches out towards him. Delicately clutched in one enormous hand is — a fish. A big one. Wolf stares at it. He stares at the merman. He stares at the fish again.

When he awkwardly takes it, the merman makes a noise as if purring.

* * *

The merman visits often. 

He comes just about everyday, hovering around outside of the cave and calling out in that little chirp until Wolf comes out. He's there at sunrise, he's there at noon, he's there at sunset, and he certainly has no qualms calling out in the middle of the night. More than once, Wolf comes back from a mission to a very put off merman, whose chirps has since deepened into something more akin to growls.

He always brings something for him. Fish, most of the time. Big enough to feed him for the rest of the day, and then some. Every so often, Wolf will find himself with an armful of shellfish or a half-dead octopus — not that he particularly minds, since food is food. When the merman starts lingering instead of immediately leaving after handing off his gift, Wolf shares the catches with him. It's too much for just himself anyways. And it's amusing, the way the merman stares at firepit with unabashed fascination as Wolf prepares dinner.

The merman brings trinkets as well. Those are... more hit and miss. Wolf doesn't know what to do with the handfuls of pearl pressed into his hands, besides trade them with nearby villagers. Once, the merman even brings him a waterlogged chest bursting with gold coins, which Wolf keeps safely tucked away at the very back of the cave. But by far the most memorable gift is what Wolf can only assume to be a knife. The blade is made of the darkest shade of black he's ever seen, and it cuts through just about damn near everything. Except the weight is distributed so strangely, as if it’s constantly trying pulling in one direction. And whenever he looks at it, he always feels... uneasy.

Wolf has no interest in the merman's flesh. If the tales of immortality are true, then he knows there’s nothing but suffering and ruin down that path. He isn't even sure how he feels about the merman's company: on one hand, though Wolf is loathe to admit it, a part of him is happy that he isn't alone anymore, and that he has such a reliable source of food. On the other, he knows that the merman is only here to thank him — and even more alarming, he had _lied_ to his father about the merman's existence. 

When he had met up with Owl at their usual spot at the usual time, Wolf had told him about daimyo's imprisonment of the merman and the lengths he went to free him. He fielded his father's questions easily enough, but when it reached the point where he was supposed to tell him about the merman’s visits, the words froze in his throat. To his relief, his father didn't seem to notice. He just told him he was doing a good job, and then said his goodbyes. 

Wolf went back to his cave feeling off-balanced. He had never lied to his father knowingly before.... such a strange feeling.

One day, as Wolf grills strips of meat over a fire, his eyes wander back to the merman, who’s reclining close by in the water. It's hard not to stare. Once you got over the shock of how predatory he looks, the merman is really quite something to behold. Strong jaw, sharp cheekbones, and biceps bigger than Wolf's head. Bright and expressive eyes. And his tail....

Wolf never would have expected it to be so colorful. Bright gold against dark blue. The golden scales run down the sides of his tail like the shaft of an arrow. Though he's undoubtedly awkward on land, the merman still holds himself with a great deal of pride. The sort of arrogant, imperious posture Wolf would expect to see on a firstborn son of a noble instead of something half-beast and half-man.

A chittering hum. It sounds almost like a laugh. Wolf looks up, and sure enough, the merman is.... smiling. The corners of his mouth stretch strangely around the shape, to the point where it seems almost unnatural, but there's no denying what it is. Wolf flushes as he looks away. He'd been caught staring. 

The chittering hum heightens into an alarmed noise. A clawed finger reaches out, tucking under his chin to lift up his face. Wolf swallows hard as their eyes meet. He doesn't know how to interpret what he sees in the merman's gaze.

Eventually, he pushes the hand away. The merman is humming again, almost more like a purr. Wolf gets an idea.

"Genichiro," he says, and draws the characters into the sand. He knows the merman won't understand a single thing, but still. "That's what I'm going to call you from now on. Do you like that, Genichiro?"

The purring doesn't abate. Wolf smiles.

* * *

Eventually, Wolf is forced to leave for a mission. 

What makes this one different isn't the difficulty — just another intelligence-gathering mission, gauge strength and size of a settlement and whatnot — but the length. Getting there and back takes him the better part of two weeks. Two weeks away from Genichiro. Wolf spends most of that time hoping he won’t have lost a friend when he finally returns.

When he arrives to the beach, he’s relieved to hear a familiar, chittering hum. Except, as he approaches, he realizes there’s something off. It's too deep and throaty, like the growl of a tiger. Wolf feels his hackles rise as his hands twitch towards his sword. It doesn’t stop him from continuing forwards.

Sure enough, there's Genichiro in his usual spot. As soon as Wolf steps into view, his head snaps towards him. Wolf had expected him to be moody at the very least, but Genichiro's face... it’s very placid. That throaty growl still hangs in the air. Despite a twitch of anxiety working its way up his spine, Wolf kicks off his sandals, rolls up his hakama, and wades into the water. 

“Hello,” he says, soft. “I’m sorry I was away. I didn’t know how—“

That’s as far as he gets, before a clawed hand darts out and yanks him into the water. Out of instinct, Wolf kicks — only for unyielding hands to wrap around his legs. He reaches for his sword.

His legs are forced apart. Hands start pulling at his hakama. Wolf goes still. 

Understanding dawns achingly, painfully slow. All the food and the trinkets Genichiro had given him, how catty he got whenever he was forced to wait, how angry he is right now — Genichiro hadn’t been thanking him. He had been _courting_ him.

A tearing noise fills the air. Wolf looks down to see Genichiro settle his head between his bare legs, determination all over his face. A distinct silence falls. Wolf wonders if he’s confused by the presence of a vagina instead of a penis. Then he feels claws ghost along his entrance, and he squirms away. Genichiro levels a glare at him, before bracing his thumbs against the lips of his cunt and spreading them wide.

Wolf watches, scarcely daring to breathe, as Genichiro leans close and breathes in deep. His eyes, already so big and dark, somehow get even bigger and darker. He opens his mouth, and out rolls a long, prehensile tongue.

Wolf blinks. Genichiro pulls his cunt open wider. Something slimy and dexterous feels around his opening; an embarrassing noise falls out when it runs over his clit. Wolf's hips twitch towards the tongue, but it’s already moving away, pressing against his hole. The tip swirls around his entrance, as if savoring the taste. Then Genichiro leans forwards, and the tongue sinks inside. Blood rushes to Wolf's head fast enough to leave him light-headed.

Genichiro is utterly graceless, motivated by curiosity more than anything else. He takes his time feeling around with his tongue, exploring every inch of Wolf's cunt. Before long, Wolf can't keep his voice back, even when his hands fly over his mouth. The tongue swirls in deeper and deeper, maddeningly slow — until it presses against a wall.

His cervix. A ferocious heat blooms across Wolf's face. He can feel the tongue delicately poking around, mapping out the shape, before catching against something. Genichiro frowns as he pushes. Wolf gasps as blood rushes to his head. And then something inside — _gives._

Wolf cums. It hits hard and fast, leaving static in his vision. His legs squeeze tight around Genichiro's head, riding it out with whimpers. Distantly, he hears Genichiro let out a surprised huff. Then, with the part of his tongue still outside, he rubs against his urethra and clit. _Licking_. Wolf realizes he must've have squirted — all over Genichiro's face, no less. When that tongue runs over his clit, he shudders as more sprays out.

He can still feel Genichiro's tongue squirming around inside. It's positively thrashing now, forcing its way deeper and deeper. Wolf trembles as he feels his second orgasm building, and when Genichiro gives a particularly rough shove, he cums again. This time, Genichiro closes his mouth over it and _drinks._

Spots dance across Wolf's vision as he grinds down on that tongue.

* * *

Wolf goes to see his father.

The Owl is perched on a log, one leg thrown over the other, biting into what looks like a riceball. His eyes flick towards him the moment Wolf steps into view. He smiles, which immediately puts Wolf on guard.

"Good news," Owl says. "Our lord has finally decided to declare war. He's ordered you back to the castle to serve as his personal guard. You've a week to tie up any loose ends."

Normally, Wolf would be relieved to receive such news. But now...

Though Genichiro doesn't seem to have much by way of facial expressions, he apparently knows Wolf well enough to reach out and caress the side of his face when he comes to see him later that day. The tips of his claws runs along his skin, heat emanating from his touch. Even though he knows better, Wolf leans into it.

"I'll have to leave soon," he murmurs. Genichiro replies by humming along to the cadence of his voice, higher and softer than one would expect from a creature such as him. When his hands stray lower, Wolf smiles and pushes them aside. Genichiro is utterly insatiable, as Wolf has had the pleasure of discovering these past several days, but also impatient. He's had to steal an embarrassing number of hakama from the nearby village just to replace all the ones Genichiro had destroyed.

As usual, Wolf cums hard enough on his tongue to make him see stars. Genichiro gives his clit one last lick, before releasing him with a look that's far more smug than it should be. As Wolf drags himself back onto dry land, Genichiro turns and vanishes into the water. He's just managed to get his pants back on when Genichiro resurfaces.

There's something in his hands. Wolf squints at it. It's a deep, dark red, the surface smooth as polished stone, and resting comfortably on Genichiro's palm. Wolf can't decide if it reminds him of a heart or a persimmon. When Genichiro motions it towards him, Wolf gingerly takes it from his outstretched hands. He's — _bothered_ to find it soft and squishy.

"What am I supposed to do with this?" Wolf asks with a small laugh, but it's an honest question. It doesn't feel right to just throw it away or bury under some dirt. He doubts he can trade it too: the longer he looks at it, the more his chest squeezes with that same feeling he gets whenever he looks at the knife Genichiro had given him weeks ago. 

Genichiro reaches out and draws his thumb over his lips. Wolf frowns.

After a moment, he relents. Best to make the most of what little time he has left with Genichiro.

Wolf takes a deep breath and bites into it. Just as he had expected, the taste is....indescribably strange. The texture, however, reminds him of mochi. He isn't retching, at the very least. He swallows it down as quickly as possible, then holds his breath to make sure it won't come back up. 

Genichiro purrs. He reaches out to cup his face. The look in his eyes — it's so intense that Wolf has to look away. Guilt wells up in his stomach.

Truth be told, he doesn't know what he feels towards him. He's fond of him, that's for certain, but love? Wolf doesn't know if he's even capable of that anymore. Still, there's something cruel about this, not being able to tell Genichiro. Wolf hopes that he won't wait too long for him to come back after he leaves. And he hopes that he'll be smart enough to stay away once war breaks out and the whole coast is set ablaze. He doesn't know for certain what the daimyo of this land had in store for him, but he knows that his master won't be kind if he ever gets his hands on Genichiro. Imbibing his flesh would be the least that he would do. 

And then—

A feverish heat surges through his stomach. Wolf grunts, then doubles over as it spreads like a wildfire. His head spins — the world is suddenly very far away and muffled, like he's underwater. An enormous hand settles across his back and around his arm. Genichiro looms into view, and there is no mistaking the — excitement? Joy?

It's the last thing Wolf sees for a long while.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wolf is confronted with a new life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for rape, oviposition, and mild descriptions of childbirth.

Something is wrong.

His body feels heavy. He can't take a full breath no matter how deep he breathes in. In the limbo between sleep and consciousness, he's aware of all the noise surrounding him, dull and echoing and roaring. He shivers into a tiny and miserable ball, like he's trying to generate warmth in his core. Big arms press him against a big chest, and a gentle, insistent purring lulls him back to sleep.

Eventually, Wolf opens his eyes.

His first thought is that he's back in his cave. Rocky walls and ceilings, a cozy space, his straw mat below him. That awful heat in his abdomen is gone, though his limbs still feel terribly weak. Wolf closes his eyes and curls in tighter on himself. He breathes in deep, all the way to his stomach.

It takes him a moment to realize he's breathing in water.

He doesn't panic. He had been trained better, and woken up to worse situations before. Instead, Wolf’s eyes fly open, and his breath stills in his throat. He casts his gaze around, taking stock of the situation. He’s....naked. He's in a cave. When Wolf swipes his hand through the air, he's forced to concede that it's not air he's pushing through, but water. He's underwater. His chest begins to burn, so despite common sense screaming at him, Wolf takes in a tentative gulp. And it — it feels wrong. The sensation of water sluicing down his throat. But it's happening and he's not drowning, so he continues to breathe.

Wolf forces himself to think. Really think. The last thing he remembers is — pain. Heat. Genichiro catching him, the excitement in his eyes. The fruit.

Wolf takes another breath, and swallows down the cluster of emotions that lurch up into his throat.

None of that will help him now. He needs to figure out where he is and what's going on. Whatever that fruit did to him, it apparently granted him the ability to breathe underwater. He has to find out how else it had affected him, what his next move will be. Wolf takes a deep breath, and begins navigating his way through the cave.

It's cavernous. Much bigger than he expects. The corridors are full of random twists and dead ends, though the walls are at least lined some kind of bioluminescent substance. Despite his Night Eye, Wolf follows it like a guide, urging himself higher and higher. Eventually, he starts sees slats in the ceiling, sunlight shining through. Something primal inside him unravels with relief at the sight of it. 

Eventually, Wolf finds a crack big enough to pull himself through. 

He doesn't know what he had expected. Maybe some part of him had anticipated the worst, like finding himself at the bottom of the ocean or held in captivity by some twisted lord. But instead, he's confronted by gleaming white sand, strange and brilliantly colored coral, a dizzying array of fish. Sunlight refracts through the waters bright enough to make his eyes ache. A dull roar echoes in his ears, as if the sound of waves collapsing on themselves has managed to reach all the way down here. 

It's all so alien. It's too much. Wolf feels like he can't breathe.

He doesn't know how long he's there, trying to process the situation. But eventually, a shadow passes over him, and hands settle around his waist. He looks up at the only thing he recognizes in this alien place. 

“Genichiro?” Wolf says, but all that comes out is a rush of bubbles and muffled noises.

Genichiro clicks and hums. He pulls him in close, and swims back into the cave.

Before long, Wolf finds himself right back where he had started. Genichiro settles him on top of a bed made out of sand and some kind of fuzzy algae, and tucks his face into the crook of Wolf's neck. As he purrs, Wolf is suddenly aware of how much bigger he is compared him. How he's on Genichiro's territory now.

Sure enough, Genichiro moves down and settles his head between Wolf's legs. He bares his cunt open, presses a finger against his clit, and buries his tongue deep inside. A series of movements that Wolf has since grown to anticipate, even learned to crave. Except down here, beneath the surface of the ocean, it isn't nearly as pleasurable. But Genichiro had spent many days learning how to please him. When he wraps his mouth around Wolf's clit and _sucks_ , the sensation that rips through his body has Wolf going taut as a bowstring. Genichiro lets out a low hum as he drinks it all up.

As it turns out, he's determined to get him off as many times as possible. Even when Wolf starts to sob and kick at his shoulders, Genichiro wrenches out orgasm after orgasm from his cunt. Normally, when it reaches the point that Wolf starts fighting back, Genichiro backs off easily enough. But down here, Wolf can’t generate enough force. Genichiro easily grabs his thighs and holds his legs apart, tongue writhing deep into his cunt. By the time he finally pulls out, Wolf can barely feel between his legs anymore.

Which is why it takes him a moment to realize there's something pushing inside. It isn't Genichiro's tongue — he's looming over him, face to face, eyes closed in what looks like ecstasy. Wolf stares up at him, uncomprehending — and then Genichiro snaps his body against him, and Wolf wheezes as the air is punched out of his lungs. He looks down, and sees something thick and fleshy wedged deep into his cunt. A cock. Wolf doesn’t know why he’s so surprised at the sight of it. 

Genichiro holds him close with all the tenderness Wolf would expect from a lover. He slams into his body with a force savage enough to leave Wolf screaming if he could. Down here, all that comes out are bubbles. Wolf clings to Genichiro for dear life as he splits his body wide open.

It's painful. It's rough. It's too much. Wolf wonders if he's going to die like this, at the bottom of the ocean, speared on a monster's cock. A part of him hopes that he will, he doesn't want to live like this, spreading his legs like a brothel whore. But then — his belly grows warm. A gentle and insistent flame. It spreads through his body, until he's blindsided by an orgasm that leaves him gasping. He doesn’t— what— he—

Wolf shudders through another orgasm. He feels like his cunt has come alive by Genichiro's cock or whatever he had put inside of him. Even though he knows better, even though he _shouldn't_ , Wolf spreads his legs as wide as they'll go, and begs Genichiro in whatever way he can to fuck him harder, faster, deeper.

He loses track of how many times Genichiro cums inside of him. He loses track of a lot of things. Wolf only comes back to himself when Genichiro pulls out, and he claws at him, desperate and scared, don't leave him, just a little more—

Something presses inside. Not Genichiro's penis. Something that keeps going and going until it reaches his cervix, and presses down until his womb finally gives. Wolf whimpers. He's so wrung out that just thinking about his clit makes it ache, but he's still so warm. His body burns. Whatever is inside him now isn't enough, he needs—

His mind screeches to a halt as something _huge_ enters his cunt. Wolf gasps and squirms as it forces its way inside, inching down his passage until it reaches his cervix. The first tendrils of fear begin pulling him out of the heat. Wolf thrashes, sobbing, but it keeps pressing down and he can feel his body giving way to it and he can't, _he can’t_ —

It pops inside. All the strength leaves Wolf's body. The intrusion pulls out slowly, almost careful. His vision focuses just enough for him to see Genichiro stuffing some kind of fleshy appendage back into what looks like a slit, though his penis is still hanging out. After a moment, Genichiro curls around him protectively, his tail draping over his legs. Wolf feels his chest rumbling with the vibration of his purrs.

It's enough to lull him to sleep. 

* * *

When Wolf makes his way to the surface, he looks around and sees nothing but water. Ocean for miles and miles, meeting an equally endless sky at the horizon. The view is enough to make him sick, though the feeling of real _air_ in his lungs keeps him there for just a little while longer. At least, until Genichiro tugs on his leg and pulls him back under with a frown.

Wolf doesn't know where he is. As far as he can tell, the space outside of the caves is a large coral reef. The vibrancy of color and life still stuns him no matter how many times he steps outside of the caves. There's just so much to see it leaves him spinning. Wolf had spent the first few days hovering at the entrance, until his restlessness overcame his fears. It had felt like he was stepping into a dream as he pushed himself into the sunlight.

Beyond the coral reef is a lush forest of kelp. Off to side is a canyon rumbling with powerful currents, carrying along fish and other creatures as if it were a road. Beyond that, Wolf thinks he can see something purple glowing at the bottom, though he doesn't dare go any further. When he travels in the opposite direction, he comes across what looks almost like a grass field, full of sea turtles and cranky little crabs. At one point, Wolf picks a direction and forces himself to keep swimming, even when the vegetation and corals fade away, when even then sand becomes sparse, until there's nothing but rock beneath him. And then, finally, even the rock comes to an end, giving way to a sheer drop.

The sight of open ocean beneath him is enough to induce vertigo. When Genichiro herds him back onto solid ground with a huffy noise, Wolf goes easily. 

Genichiro is content to let him explore, or maybe he's just paranoid he'll try to run away. Either way, Genichiro stays close wherever he goes, clingy and shamelessly affectionate, watching with the same sort of fondness an owner might display for a new pet exploring their surroundings. He only leaves Wolf’s side to bring back food — Wolf gets used to eating raw fish much faster than he would like to admit. At night, he knows that Genichiro slips out of the cave, but he's already so tense during daytime with Genichiro at his side that heading out by himself into the darkness is too much to even consider.

And of course, when Genichiro isn't following him like some kind of benevolent master or off looking for food, he's between his legs.

Wolf doesn't know how to describe it. He'd known Genichiro was insatiable, but now it's like he's _addicted_. Wolf's only warning that he's about to get thrown onto his back is when he realizes it's been a while since Genichiro last wedged some part of himself into his vagina. Most of the time, Genichiro uses his tongue on him, because if he uses his cock, whatever it secretes will drive Wolf mad with desperation and lust. He'll slam himself back onto that cock even if they'd already been fucking for hours, even if his thighs tremble and his cunt aches and Genichiro himself is trying to push him off. The aphrodisiac doesn't last long after Genichiro pulls out, thankfully, but it's intense enough to leave Wolf sobbing. The humiliation that sets in right after is just as unbearable.

One day, as Wolf continues looking around, he follows a sand dune all the way to the surface. He's stunned to find a patch land above the water, tall and big enough to almost pass for an island. Genichiro scowls as he pulls himself onto it, grabbing at his feet. Though his limbs feel painfully slow after so much time in the water, Wolf manages to level a kick at his face. Genichiro leaves him alone after that, though he prowls back and forth like a sullen shark. Wolf knows he's going to pay for it later, when Genichiro inevitably looses his patience, but he can't find it in himself to care. It's good to feel the sun on his skin. 

* * *

Of course, Wolf asks the obvious questions. Why is he here? Where is he? Will he ever be able to go home? The only person who could possibly answer any of that doesn't understand human speech, and even if he did, Wolf has a feeling he's physically incapable of speaking it. And of course, he can't make heads or tails of the noises that Genichiro produces, outside of general emotions.

Still, he gets a few of his questions answered when he wakes up one morning, and finds Genichiro nuzzling his belly with a foolish look and a throaty purr. 

Wolf goes still. He can't have— they're different species— this shouldn't be possible— is this also the fruit's work? When Genichiro pulls away so that he can mouth at his neck, Wolf reaches down and runs tentative fingers over his stomach. Sure enough, there's a bump that shouldn’t be there.

Wolf doesn't know what to do.

Scream, fight, rage, shut down, cry — for a long while, he doesn't do anything. There's something growing in his belly. That's why Genichiro had chosen him and brought him here. He wants him to carry his children.

Except — are they even children? Do mermaids— men— people— give birth or lay eggs? Wolf thinks back to his first day here, that strange intrusion that had forced its way into his womb. Was that Genichiro laying eggs inside of him? How many did he deposit? How big are they going to grow? Will they hatch like chicks? Are they less children than they are parasites, destined to eat their way out of him? Wolf has heard such stories before, when he was a trainee learning the art of poisons. And he has no answers. He's all alone in the middle of the ocean, with nothing but two monsters: one that won't leave him alone, and another growing inside of him. 

Wolf settles with anger.

He can hardly bear to look at Genichiro. When Genichiro grabs him, he fights back with everything he has. Wolf is deeply gratified when he kicks his shoulder hard enough to leave a heel-shaped bruise, though Genichiro quickly makes him pay for it. If he wants to get his tongue into him, let alone his cock, Genichiro has to fight for it every step of the way. Wolf half-expects Genichiro to beat him for his disobedience, but he never lays on a hand on him except to force his legs apart. If there weren't something growing inside of him, Wolf doubts Genichiro would be as merciful. 

And yet, the raging spark inside him goes out terribly fast when even his own body begins working against him.

He finds out after Genichiro drags him off the sand dune, kicking up bubbles and sand in their wake. He looms over him, a series of warning clicks issued from his throat, and Wolf bares his teeth. But Genichiro isn't looking at Wolf in the eye anymore. Instead, his gaze strays lower, towards his chest. Wolf doesn't understand what he's staring at, until Genichiro reaches down and gives one nipple a firm, unrelenting tug.

Wolf feels himself go cold as a tiny stream of milk swirls into the water.

He bucks his hips to throw Genichiro off. But Genichiro has an iron grip on his wrists — Wolf isn't going anywhere. Genichiro holds him down easily as he gropes at his chest, pulling and tweaking and flicking at the dark nub, entranced by white liquid seeping out. When he leans down and closes his mouth over it, mapping the area out with his tongue, all Wolf can do is squeeze his eyes shut. Genichiro sucks — and it doesn't take long before the curious motion settles into something more confident and consistent. Genichiro eats his fill from Wolf's body.

Wolf does his best to swallow down the tightness in his throat, and waits for it to be over.

* * *

Wolf jerks awake one night when his body gives a sudden, painful lurch. 

For a moment, he thinks it's just the thing growing inside of him kicking around, or maybe it's doing that thing where it jumps on his bladder. But his body seizes again, strong and complete enough that Wolf knows instinctively what's happening. He curls in on himself with a tiny whimper as another contraction ripples through his muscles. Genichiro isn't here — that's how he knows it's night. Ironic, given how determined he was to have this thing. Wolf doesn't know who the gods are punishing: him, by forcing him to be alone, or Genichiro, by taking this moment away from him.

Once, when Wolf was just a trainee and still figuring out whether he was a he or a she, one of his tutors had sat him down, and given him a very cursory and clinical explanation about sex and what he could expect from his body in the coming years. Pregnancy was briefly touched upon, only to explain that it lasted nine months and it was far more trouble than it was worth. Most of Wolf's experiences after that had to do with the wives and concubines of the noblemen he's served. They'd seemed to handle pregnancy gracefully enough, but he remembers an awful lot of screaming and blood when it was actually time for birth.

Wolf doesn't know how long he's been here, but he knows it hasn't been nine months. And his belly isn't anywhere near big enough — he's uncomfortable, but it isn't so big that he needs help moving around. Wolf knows he shouldn't be giving birth now, but here he is, sobbing and gasping, wishing he were dead, when a hand suddenly settles on his hip and a deep purr fills his chest. Wolf blindly reaches out until he finds Genichiro's arm. He clings to it, trembling, when his body gives one last heave and the pressure below his hips vanish. Blood roars in his ears. When Wolf finally comes back to himself, Genichiro is no longer at his side.

He's bent over something tiny in the sand, confusion and fear on his face.

_Good. You deserve it,_ is Wolf's first thought. But then he actually looks at it, the thing that came out of him, and he sees...he sees....

It's small. Pink. There's a patch of fuzzy black hair across its skull. The tail is a dull, translucent blue, and it doesn't look like any scales have formed yet. At first, Wolf thinks it's dead — but then Genichiro pokes its face with a finger, and a tiny mouth opens and closes around the tip his claw. _It's so small._ Wolf doesn't know what to do. 

It soon becomes clear that Genichiro doesn't know what to do either. And so Wolf uses what strength he has left to push him aside, and picks it up. He tucks it to his chest and maneuvers its mouth to a nipple. When he feels it latch on, Wolf settles back against the sand, exhausted. He can't summon up the energy to be angry as Genichiro curls around him and their child. 

* * *

The child grows quickly. Very quickly. 

In the beginning, Wolf fears that they're too underdeveloped, that as soon as he closes his eyes, they're going to pass away in his arms and he'll wake up to a stiff, cold body. But after a few nerve-wracking weeks, the child starts looking more and more...normal. Tiny scales begin growing across their tail, colored in deep blues and brilliant golds. After a few more weeks, they start making valiant attempts to swim, though Wolf always pulls them back before they get too far.

Not long after that, they become determined to explore. They aren't big enough to head out into the rest of the ocean, but the cave is safe enough. Wolf is careful to keep them close, pulling gently on their tails whenever they try to speed ahead. Sometimes, they'll find something interesting, and bring it to him clutched in fat little hands. That's when Wolf learns they have his eyes. They may look like Genichiro in just about every other way, but they have the Night Eye, same as Wolf. They can see his face clear as day even in darkness. His child. He doesn't know how to feel about it.

They're very noisy. Chitters and screeches and clicks and hums at all hours of the day, but especially when they're hungry. They latch onto his breast and slurp like he'd starved them for days, instead of it being mere hours since he'd last nursed them. Genichiro likes to copy their noises, probably to encourage them to make more. Though as far as Wolf can tell, it's all gibberish. Meaningless noises that the child sings along to. 

After some time, they seem to....settle on a noise. A high-pitched, warbling sort of screech. They'll scream it right next to his ear when he's a second late with food, or when they want him to swim faster, or when they just want to be noisy. It makes Wolf thinks of cicadas, calling in the summer evenings.

"Cicada," Wolf says, though all that comes out are bubbles. Cicada blinks a curious eye at him, before closing it and pressing their face deeper into his chest, feeding with little throaty clicks accompanying each swallow.

* * *

When Cicada starts smiling at him, all toothy little grins, Genichiro decides they're old enough to start exploring beyond the caves. 

Wolf jerks awake that morning to Genichiro pulling Cicada out of his arms, his hand already closed around his wrist. Genichiro frowns at him as he pries him off. Panic lurches up into Wolf's throat as Genichiro gathers up their child and swims away. He hurries after them, and arrives to the entrance in time to see Genichiro's tail vanish into the sunlight. Cicada is left in front of the entrance, staring outside with wonder and curiosity and no small amount of apprehension. 

Wolf hums. He can't make it as deep or as loud as Genichiro can, but it's enough to get Cicada to look at him. For a moment, Wolf thinks they'll dart back into his arms, crying and fussing for food — but then Cicada beams at him and zooms outside. 

Wolf follows.

He hovers close as Cicada chases after schools of fish, mouths on coral, and tries to eat all sorts of creatures too slow to escape them. When they stick their hand in an anemone and screech, he's quick to pull them back into his arms. But the pain must fade quickly, because they're squirming away and towards some other shiny object before Wolf can get a good grip. He finds himself pulling kelp out of their mouth before they can swallow it, and herds them away when they swim too close to the edge of the canyon. Cicada only takes breaks to nurse from his chest, before darting off again in some other direction.

Eventually, they arrive to the sand dune. Wolf swims up to the surface and pulls himself onto land. An instant later, Cicada pokes their head out of the water. They blink as they take in their new surroundings, the gills along their neck fluttering for air. Then their eyes land on him, and they screech. Or try to. All that comes out is a tiny, raspy squeak. Wolf can't help but smile at the utterly baffled expression on their face. 

He clicks his tongue. Cicada looks at him. Wolf opens his mouth and breathes in slow, then breathes back out. Cicada stares, but tries it themselves after a moment. They let out a sputtering cough — water streams out of their mouth and gills as they struggle to suck down air, face all scrunched up. Wolf is on the verge of jumping back into the water when they beam at him. He can see their chest rising and falling. 

The glow of success doesn't last long. Cicada swims closer to the sand dune until they're flush against it, arms raised out of the water and tail moving furiously below the surface. Wolf leans in close to pull them into his arms, and quickly finds that holding a wiggling fish child above water is much harder than holding one under it. But Cicada settles quickly enough. They turn and latch onto his chest, suckling with a huffiness that Wolf can feel. 

He allows them to nurse for a long, quiet moment. Eventually, Wolf gives Cicada a little shake. When they squeeze open an eye to glare at him, he smiles and says, "Hello." The glare turns into blinks of surprise. When he continues, Cicada pulls away entirely to stare.

"You're mine," Wolf says. "Your name is Cicada, because you sound just like one. I came from a land where the sun rises. Your father is a great big fool, and you are too."

For a long, long moment, Cicada is silent. Then they open their mouth, and a stream of nonsensical but ultimately human noises tumble out.

* * *

Wolf is in the middle of teaching Cicada how to say their name, when Genichiro surfaces next to them.

Normally, he leaves them alone whenever Wolf brings Cicada to the sand dune. He'll come by every so often to drop off food and to just watch, but beyond that, Wolf doesn't know what he spends the rest of the day doing. He doesn't care enough to know, either. He's just happy to be left alone with his child.

But this time, there's a fish in Genichiro's hand. Wolf frowns, because he'd already brought him one not too long ago. He's about to turn him away, when Genichiro clicks at Cicada and dives back into the water. Cicada blinks at the ocean, blinks at Wolf, then blinks at the ocean again. They scoot into the water.

Wolf follows.

His vision adjusts in time to see Genichiro tear off the fish's head. Blood billows into the water, wafting close to Cicada. Wolf watches as their eyes grow big and dark. Genichiro swims away, and Cicada follows.

Wolf tries to follow, but he's quickly left behind. 

His mind races. How long has he had Cicada now? The days had passed by so fast. Now that he actually thinks of it, Cicada is no longer a baby — they're just about the size of a toddler now. Had he really lost track of the days, or do mer children really develop that fast? Can they already eat solids? Is is safe for them to eat solids like that without any preparation?

The questions swirl through his mind so loud and chaotic that Wolf nearly lashes out when a hand settles around his waist. He looks up at Genichiro, who purrs at him, and allows himself to be pulled away, back to the caves.

He isn't surprised when Genichiro slots his head between his legs. He isn't surprised when Genichiro presses inside of him, setting his body ablaze on his cock. This time, when that strange appendage replaces his penis, Wolf forces himself to pay attention to whatever is deposited inside of him. Big, round, soft things. Wolf counts one...two...three... _four._

Four eggs. Four children. When Genichiro leaves him there, presumably to keep an eye on Cicada, Wolf realizes he feels nothing at all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm taking a lot of inspiration from Abzu and Subnautica for some of the places mentioned in this chapter. Some of the most beautiful and fun games I've ever played. Also made me realize what an absolute coward I am. 
> 
> And last but not least: yes, Genichiro's dick secretes aphrodisiacs. Why? Because fuck you, that's why.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wolf finds a new life surrounded by his family. 
> 
> And then a monster crawls up from the deep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanna preface this chapter by apologizing for how long it finally took to update. I basically had to go through a couple of drafts before I was finally able to settle on something I liked enough to post, and even then, I'm kind of at the point where I'm just glad this is over. It's all character and plot development from here on out. If you came for the fish fucking, sorry to say, that's a little behind me now. Either way, I hope you enjoy what I have. And if you notice any superficial mistakes like grammar and spelling, then please let me know because I have too many damn words to keep track of. 
> 
> 4/20/20: SO I JUST REALIZED THAT I COMPLETELY FORGOT TO INCLUDE A WHOLE ASS PART IN THIS CHAPTER SO IF THERE WAS A MOMENT WHERE YOU WENT LOL WHAT HAPPENED I PROBABLY JUST THREW IT BACK IN. THIS IS WHY YOU PROOFREAD SHIT CLOSELY KIDS

"Did you give them any names yet?" Cicada asks.

Wolf blinks open an eye to see Cicada prodding at the cheeks of one of their younger siblings. The baby, still asleep, frowns and turns over in the sand, though not without smacking another napping baby across the arm with their tail. Wolf sits up as whimpers fill the air, soft and confused. He scoots closer to them, which is far easier said than done with two other babies attached to his chest. Wolf can feel the beginnings of very sharp claws digging into his skin as they fight to keep from being dislodged.

He clicks his tongue and coos, and soon enough — and to his relief — the napping babies stay asleep and the babies at his chest suckle away peacefully. Wolf gives Cicada a look as he settles back into the sand. "I'm sorry," they grumble.

"But still," Cicada whines. "Do the babies have names yet?"

Wolf sighs. He looks up at Cicada, and then back to the babies. It's hard enough keeping track of the days, but it feels like — a month? Two months? — since they were born. Caring for all four of them is much harder than when he had been caring for Cicada, and he hasn't had the time, let alone the energy, to do much else besides make sure they're all fed. 

Still, though. The babies babble back now whenever he and Cicada speak to them. It's only going to be a matter of time before they actually start putting together words. They'll need names soon. 

"Not yet," Wolf says. "Do you have any ideas?"

A contemplative look settles over Cicada's face. They beam at him.

One baby has a red splotch on their tail — Akane. Another has a green sheen to their scales when the sunlight strikes it just right — Midori. Sparrow is given to the baby with bird-like clicks and trills. And for the one whose golden accents are shaped like insect wings across their tail, they become Moth.

Wolf traces the characters into the sand. Cicada leans over to watch, and tries to write it themselves. Most of the characters come out lopsided with a few strokes missing, but he still runs his hand through their hair when they look at him for approval. "Akane, Midori, Sparrow, and Moth," Cicada says, singsong.

Wolf pats their face. One of the babies — Akane — detaches from his chest with a sleepy mewl, milk dribbling down their chin. When he looks over at the other — Sparrow — he finds them dead asleep with their mouth still wrapped around his nipple. Wolf gently sets them down next to the other two dozing in the sand, pushing them close together until they're all one big pile. Wolf scoots closer, ready for a nap himself. It's always so warm on the sand dune.

He's about to ask Cicada if they want to join, when there's a loud splash at the shore of the sand dune. Wolf bites back a groan as Genichiro hauls himself onto land.

Cicada shrieks with joy as the babies whine. Their faces twist and their eyes begin to open, watery hiccups filling the air. Wolf braces himself for the inevitable meltdown — once one gets started, the rest always follow — when Genichiro trills sharply at them. All four babies fall silent with wide, baffled expressions.

Genichiro crawls closer to Wolf. He throws a fish down in front of him: as long as his arm and twice as thick, a blue gleam to its silvery scales. Genichiro wastes no time cutting it open with his claws and pulling out its insides. The smell of blood fills the air, and Wolf doesn't miss the way the babies' eyes dilate, nostrils and gills flaring. He gently pulls them back when they try crawling forwards to investigate. Genichiro throws the discarded guts to Cicada, who shamelessly gobbles it all up, and pushes the rest of the fish towards Wolf. 

He'd taken the time to scrape away most of the scales and cut the meat into strips. Wolf isn't particularly hungry, but he'd never been one to reject food. The meat is fatty and tangy, and comes apart easily enough under his teeth. One of the babies — Moth — lets out a screech as they reach for it. Genichiro clicks sharply at them, and a terrifically hurt expression comes over their little face. 

The clicks soften. Genichiro croons. He picks up a strip of meat and pries off a small piece, which he holds out to Moth. They hesitate, then reach for it with big, dark eyes.

"Hey. _No._ " Wolf pushes Genichiro's hand away. Genichiro glares as Moth whimpers. In response, Wolf bares his teeth and points to them, then points to Moth and shakes his head. Regardless of their nature, none of the babies have teeth yet, and the last thing Wolf needs is a choking infant. Genichiro looks disgruntled, but drops the matter easily enough. 

As Wolf eats his portion of the fish, fending off curious babies with each mouthful, Cicada and Genichiro chatter to each other like crows. Clicking and trilling and humming, off-tune but still melodic in its own way. Before long, Wolf has eaten his fill and pushes the rest towards Cicada. They fall on it with glee as the babies immediately swivels towards them. Wolf finds himself smiling as Cicada glowers at them over a full mouth.

A hand settles on his thigh, and Wolf goes still. 

He waits for the other hand to come around his waist, pull him into the water and somewhere far from the children. Genichiro has made it very clear what he wants from him, what he _expects_. Wolf doesn't fight back anymore, but he won't make it easier for him either.

He waits. And waits. The hand begins drawing lazy circles on his thigh, but they don't dig in and pull. Finally, Wolf can't take the anticipation anymore, and looks up. Genichiro is watching their children squabbling with each other over the fish, a quiet look on his face. Then he blinks over at him, and their eyes meet. Genichiro purrs.

Wolf looks away.

* * *

Eventually, Akane, Midori, Sparrow, and Moth are weaned. Wolf learns this the hard way while he’s nursing them, and nearly gets his nipple chewed off by a teething baby. After sending Cicada to catch some fish, Wolf watches closely as the babies scarf it all down like a pack of goblins, and he’s forced to concede that they’re no longer babies. He rolls them down the sand dune and into the ocean, looking on quietly as they beeline for Cicada.

Later that day, Genichiro pulls him off the sand dune. And later that evening, Wolf is brought back to the caves heavy with three eggs. 

The clutch is born as easily as the rest, and they turn out to be just as squirmy and hungry and noisy. For the one whose gold accents are patterned like chrysanthemum, Wolf names them Kiku. For the one with pale white scales like plum blossoms instead of gold, Wolf names them Ume. And for the one who digs their nails into his skin hard enough to draw blood, Wolf pinches their noise and taps their brow and says, “Hornet.”

Before long, they’re weaned too. Kiku and Ume and Hornet join their siblings in the ocean. And Genichiro comes to find him. 

Five, this time. Hoshime, for the way their Night Eye gleams so bright it reminds him of stars. Kohaku, for their amber scales scattered across their tail. Deer, for their big, round eyes. Macaque, for the way they latch onto his hair and refuse to let go, laughing hysterically at his attempts to pry them off. And Snake, for the way they bite everything that goes near their mouth, including their siblings’ tails, Genichiro’s fingers, and of course, Wolf’s nipples.

There are only two in the next clutch. Wolf names them Heron and Crane, because they’re twins and because of the way they gulp down milk like trying to swallow fish whole.

Four in the next. Spider, for their wiggly, restless fingers. Yuzu, for their bright yellow scales. Shizuko, because they’re such a quiet baby, won’t make a noise no matter what, but it doesn’t make them any less affectionate. And then Daichi, the absolute biggest baby to come out of him so far. 

The children keep coming. Wolf names them all, and he does his best to remember them. There are just so many of them and they come so quickly that, sometimes, he has a hard time putting names to their faces. His children never begrudge him for it, though. Not even when he confuses them for another sibling, or scrambles their name, or forgets who they are entirely. They just laugh and correct him and say, “Oh, Daddy. It’s alright, we forgive you. We love you.”

* * *

When his newest clutch of children begin smiling at him, Wolf decides they're old enough to start exploring beyond the caves. 

He calls Cicada down into his den, and gives them two of the babies to hold while he gathers the last one into his arms. They squeak and chirp the whole way out of the caves, and it isn’t until sunlight starts streaming in through slants in the ceiling that they fall silent. They had spent the first weeks of their lives confined to the very bottom of the caves, with only their Night Eyes to light their path. When Wolf looks down at the one in his arms, he sees their little eyes darting back and forth, trying their hardest to keep track of whatever it is they see in the sunlight.

The rest of his children swarm him as soon as he pushes past the entrance. All grinning faces and brilliant scales and little hands lingering on his face and shoulders. Noises come at him from every direction as Wolf embraces as many as he can with his free arm. When he pulls away and begins making his way through the water, his children fall into place behind him, moving in sync like a shoal of fish. 

It doesn’t take long to reach his destination. Wolf hauls himself onto the sand dune as his children immediately scatter to play nearby. Cicada surfaces a moment later, and sets the babies down next to him. Wolf watches close as they take their first breaths of real air, coughing hard and forcing water out through their gills. When they finally settle, they blink up at him, squinting. And then one lets out a raspy squeal, and soon enough, all three babies are crawling over him fussing for food.

Cicada holds onto one as Wolf nurses two. He watches as they chatter away to their baby sibling with human words, introducing themselves and Wolf and all of their siblings who happen to swim close by. The novelty of it keeps the baby distracted for a little while, but soon enough, they’re crying for Wolf. Cicada clicks at them, and they go quiet with an expression that pulls at Wolf’s heart. Still, with the other two eagerly suckling away, there’s not much that can be done besides wait.

Eventually, the babies eat their fill. Wolf sets them down in the sand, where they yawn and curl up against each other as he reaches for the last one. As soon as they latch onto his chest, Cicada chirps out a goodbye and vanishes into the ocean. Wolf leans back against the sand, closing his eyes.

It isn’t until he feels a hand brush against his cheek and a deep purr rumble against his chest that he opens them again.

“Genichiro?” He mumbles, and the purrs intensify. He sighs as the hand traces down his body, following the curves of his waist and hips. 

It's when those hands pull away the baby at his chest that Wolf finally sits up. Genichiro blinks at him, slow and purposeful like a cat. In one hand, he's setting the baby down next to their dozing siblings, and in the other is a fish, thick and red around the belly. Genichiro begins carving it up, leaving the guts by the shore as a snack for any of their children passing by. The babies’ nose twitch at the scent of blood, but they’re still too young for that. They stay asleep, even as their older siblings crowd around the shore scrapping and snapping at each other over the food. 

As Genichiro begins to scrape away the scales, something catches Wolf’s eye. A wound. Some kind of jagged, bloody mark deep in his shoulder. It isn’t bleeding anymore, but the sight of it makes Wolf wince. Before he can really think about what he’s doing, he’s reaching out to touch it, a disapproving noise in his throat.

Wolf has a faint idea of what Genichiro does when he isn’t with them. Cicada had told him, in bits and pieces, that their father patrols the outskirts of their home, fighting to keep away nasty little things that crawl up from below. “Vermin,” Cicada had said, after searching long and hard for the right words. “And if Father doesn’t go out and kill them, then they’ll infest everything and eat us all.”

As far as Wolf can tell, Genichiro is doing a good job of it. He hasn’t seen a vermin at all yet, despite how long he’s been here. That being said, he isn’t thrilled about the marks they leave behind. Genichiro croons as he brushes his hand away, and pushes the fish towards him. Wolf sighs.

The meat is sweat. A little tough. Wolf finds himself pulling filaments out from between his teeth. As he makes his way through the fish, he can hear Genichiro still crooning, a fond sort of noise that puts Wolf on edge perhaps more than it should. When Genichiro starts to relax like this, he’s either content to recline on the sand dune and bask under the sun with his family, or he’s pulling Wolf into the water to find some place private where he can wedge his head between his legs. Wolf can never figure out which it is until it’s too late. 

But then Genichiro trills. Soft and high, the sort of noise he makes when he wants Wolf's attention. Wolf looks up, wary, and finds Genichiro holding something out towards him. 

He doesn’t know what he's supposed to be looking at. It's long and black, dark enough that light doesn’t quite bounce off of it the way it should. It's as if Genichiro is holding a solid length of pure darkness, defined by precise lines and angles. But then he flips it around, and holds it out again. Suddenly, Wolf realizes that he’s offering him a handle.

And then he realizes he’s seen it before.

A lifetime ago. Back when he still lived on land. Back when Genichiro was trying to court him. _Back when he had given him that knife_. Except this one is longer, a full fledged blade, and Wolf — feels like he can't breathe. Something dark and bitter and angry starts clawing up his chest.

Genichiro gives the blade a shake, urging him to take it. Wolf can hardly bare to look at him, just as he can’t make himself look away from the blade. The sun beats down hot on his back, and he can hear the distant laughter of his children, and the babies are a warm, solid weight against his legs. Wolf doesn’t know what to feel right now, because it seems that every emotion he’s capable of feeling are all trying to pull him in different directions. All fighting to get out.

Genichiro makes a huffy noise. He grabs his hand, hard enough that Wolf can’t shake him off, and wraps it around the hilt. When he lets go, Wolf briefly wonders if he’ll be able to see red on the blade if he runs Genichiro through with it. He still remembers how the knife had cut through everything, from wood to stone to even shearing away iron when he had tested it against a kunai. Flesh, regardless of the species, would come apart like paper beneath the edge. His hand is already moving before that image has fully resolved itself in his mind. 

Except — the blade nearly flies out of his grip. The weight had suddenly shifted, throwing itself in the direction he had moved it in. It's enough to make him stop, force him to look at it, actually _look_ at it, and Wolf sees—

_Oh._ A katana.

Genichiro has given him a katana.

That thing rising in his chest suddenly drops back into his stomach, and all the emotions ricocheting inside are suddenly extinguished. All that's left is an exhaustion that radiates out from his core, leaving him cold and drained. Wolf looks at the katana, strange and dark as it is, and feels — not anger, but it isn't anything happy either. He settles it on his lap, and bows his head as Genichiro begins to purr.

When he reaches out to cup his face, Wolf closes his eyes and doesn't move away.

* * *

Unsurprisingly, his children are fascinated by the blade. They crowd around the shore of the sand dune as he shows it to them, turning it around and around in his hands. Despite the strange shifting weight and how long it's been since he last held a weapon, Wolf can twirl it around his wrists with ease. It's so deeply gratifying, knowing that he's still got it at least a little bit.

Of course, he's careful to keep it far from his children's hands. They may be sweet and obedient, always keeping close enough that Wolf has never had to chase after them despite their boundless energy and curiosity, but they still have all the foresight and knowledge as the average human child. Which is to say, he doesn't trust them not to cut off their own fingers, or accidentally put it through someone's eye in the name of _fun._

Before long, his children begin to lose interest. As they disperse back into the ocean, Wolf takes the chance to start scaling the sand dune. It's just high and steep enough that none of his children are getting up there without him noticing. Once he reaches the peak, Wolf drives the sword into the ground, deep enough it would take a storm to knock it over, and makes his way back down to the shore.

He expects to see only the babies left. But to his surprise, one lingers: Cicada, hauling themself onto land. They look up at him as he settles down next to the babies, a familiar gleam in their eyes. 

"You really don't know where it came from?" they ask.

Wolf smiles. "I told you," he says. "Your father was the one who gave it to me. You'd have to ask him where he found it."

Cicada hums. They stare up at the sword, only the hilt visible at this angle. "Father has his own," they tell him. "I saw him holding it one day when he was heading out to kill vermin. It was bigger than yours, though. Thicker, and a lot longer."

"Is that so?" Wolf says. He didn't know that, but he isn't surprised by it either. If Genichiro could bring one to him as a gift, then of course he would have his own. Wolf wonders briefly where he keeps it. Then he decides he's just happy his children haven't gotten their hands on it. _Yet,_ at least.

"Yeah. I'll ask him about it later," Cicada says, in a tone that implies they're going to completely forget in a few minutes. Wolf hums, looking away to check on the babies. 

And then: "Do you know how to use it, Daddy?"

He pauses. He doesn't know why, but his first impulse is to lie. Wolf turns back to look at Cicada, and finds himself confronted by eyes full of shameless curiosity. The eyes of a child. He looks away again as he considers his answer.

"Yes," Wolf says, and braces himself for the inevitable questions.

" _Really?_ "

"My father taught me how. When I was young."

Wolf waits for them to ask about Owl. About his upbringing. About the violence that had defined his entire world. He doesn't know how he'll explain it to Cicada, when the worst they've ever dealt with are colicky sibling and fish darting beyond their reach. Wolf waits.

Cicada asks, "Can you teach us?"

It takes a moment for the words to fully register. Wolf stares at them. Cicada stares back with an expression that is just so _earnest_. "No," he says, and they frown.

"Why not?"

"It's meant for killing." _You have no use for it. You don't need to stake your life on it._

"Yeah," Cicada says, like they're explaining something very obvious to Wolf. "I wanna know how to kill vermin, so I can help Father."

That explanation brings him far more relief than it should. Of course, Cicada is just a child, they only want to help Genichiro, what on earth had Wolf been expecting from his _own child?_

"You're too young for it," Wolf says, firmly. "You've seen the wounds your father comes back with. What only hurts him would kill you, because you're so small."

"So when I'm older, then?" Cicada asks with no hesitation.

Wolf sighs. "I'll think about it." 

Their face twists. Wolf waits for them to start whining and bargaining. Cicada is at that age where they won't easily take no for an answer. But to his surprise, they grumble and look away. Wolf can see them mentally calculating their next move, brows all scrunched together.

"Then when did _you_ learn?" They ask.

"When I was older than you," Wolf replies, leaving out the fact he had only been a little past ten when Owl had put a sword into his hands. He isn't entirely sure how old Cicada is due to how quickly his children go through infancy, only to slow down drastically afterwards, but there's no denying how young they are.

"And who taught you?"

"My father."

"What was he like?"

Wolf hesitates. Where to begin? Cicada knows a little about his home, thanks to their sibling's names and Wolf's patient explanations about Japan. But this....

"He saved me," Wolf says, and leaves it at that.

* * *

Eventually, the babies are weaned.

Wolf figures this out when the one he's named Beetle looks him dead in the eye and says, "I wanna eat fish." So he stops Akane when they drift by, tells them to bring some fish, and sure enough, all three scarf their meals down to the bone. Wolf lowers them into the water, murmuring at them to be careful and be nice. And then he's alone.

Not for long, of course.

Later that afternoon, throaty clicks draw him out of his nap. Wolf blinks as Genichiro hauls himself onto the sand dune, crawling closer until they're face to face. There's no mistaking that eager smile, the way his hand settles on his thigh. Wolf is terribly aware of their children watching with no small amount of curiosity, hovering just beneath the surface, so he reaches out to press his thumb against Genichiro's lips. Hard enough to make them part slightly.

Genichiro's eyes dilate dangerously. A broad arm is thrown around his waist, and Wolf clings to his shoulders as Genichiro shuffles back into the ocean. He's taken to the canyons, Genichiro forcing through the currents as easily as swimming through open water. There's a little cave carved into the walls, hidden enough that they won’t be disturbed. Wolf spreads his legs as soon as his back hits cold rock.

Genichiro wastes no time forcing his head between them. He licks all the way from the entrance of Wolf's cunt up to his clit. Wolf gasps as the tip of the tongue swirls over it, and reaches down to grab Genichiro by the hair. Genichiro responds with seizing him by the hips, and driving his tongue all the way in.

It's been just long enough since they last did this that Wolf's body responds eagerly. A thumb rubs circles over his clit as his cunt squeezes tight around Genichiro's tongue. His orgasm hits hard and fast, leaving him gasping as Genichiro works to drink it all up. He shivers as that tongue scrapes against his walls. It's enough to make Wolf see stars. 

When Genichiro starts prodding at his cervix with his tongue, Wolf gets an idea. 

If he actually stops to think about it, then he won’t do it, so Wolf decides he can beg for forgiveness later. All it takes is a twist of his legs, and then Genichiro is underneath him, wide-eyed and appalled. His face darkens as clawed hands dig into his thighs. Then Wolf grinds down on his face, hole squeezing around his tongue, and his expression clears. Cautiously, Genichiro resumes pressing around his cunt, deeper and deeper until Wolf is shaking on top of him.

When Genichiro reaches up to grab him by the hips, muscles tensing to flip him back to the ground, Wolf bats away his hands. He lifts himself off of Genichiro's tongue and begins moving down his body, tracing his hands over skin, then scales. Genichiro's cock is already protruding from whatever little cavity it had been stuffed into. As Wolf carefully teases it out, he can feel eyes burning into his skin.

Wolf sinks down onto it with a groan. Genichiro growls, low and pained. Hands settle on his thighs, but they don't go any higher. Wolf closes his eyes as he braces his hand against Genichiro’s abdomen, and begins to move.

Maybe this doesn't get his heart racing like Genichiro fucking him into the ground does, but there's still something deeply satisfying about this. For once, Genichiro is the one on the ground, all helpless with pleasure, and Wolf is the one to set the pace as he basks in the feeling of his insides settling around that cock. Even after all this time, a part of him is still stunned by how _big_ Genichiro is: thick enough to make his entrance burn with the stretch, long enough to hit all the spots that makes Wolf shiver with pleasure. Wolf enjoys it for as long as he can — until his body begins to burn, the aphrodisiac beginning its work.

As always, he loses himself to it. The precious few moments when he's lucid, Wolf finds himself holding Genichiro down at the hips, right where skin gives way to scales, bouncing on his cock as fast as his legs can manage. Every now and then, Genichiro reaches out and holds him down, bucks deep inside until Wolf swears he can feel it in his throat. He has no choice but to take it as something far hotter than the aphrodisiac fills him. 

Wolf isn't entirely sure how long they fuck. But when Genichiro finally pulls his cock out and presses something else inside of him, Wolf comes back to his body and finds himself lying prone on top of him, legs aching and head pounding. He claws at Genichiro, he needs, he needs, _he needs_ — and then an egg bumps against his entrance and eases its way inside. It's almost a welcome intrusion, because at least something is moving inside of him. Wolf blinks up at Genichiro's face, his eyes closed in concentration, and Wolf — feels _something_. It isn't love, he knows that for certain, but whatever it is, it compels him to pull Genichiro down and kiss him. Really kiss him. 

Genichiro pauses. The eggs marching through Wolf's body grind to a halt. Wolf licks at Genichiro's lips, needy and coaxing. Tentatively, Genichiro parts his mouth, and Wolf wastes no time deepening the kiss. After a moment, the eggs inside of him start moving again and Genichiro is kissing back, however clumsy and uncertain. Wolf can't help but wonder if that's Genichiro or his own cunt that he can taste. The thought of it makes him so unbearably hot that Wolf finds himself whimpering, licking further inside Genichiro's mouth for more.

Throughout it all, Wolf keeps count of the eggs — and he counts four. Four babies. Genichiro pulls out with a throaty rumble, and tugs Wolf up until they're face to face. When Genichiro nibbles at his mouth, Wolf kisses back, slow and deep and warm. 

* * *

The problem with carrying four eggs is that Wolf gets big. _Really_ big. Moving is nearly impossible like this, since he’s actually heavy enough to sink and some part of him is always aching. Whenever Wolf looks down at himself, he doesn’t even really see his own body anymore: just two sacs full of milk meant for four hungry little mouths, and a layer of skin and organs protecting four growing lives. Wolf knows that when they come, he’ll love them and cherish them just as much as the rest of his children, but... 

Of course, Genichiro adores him like this. He always gets so much more affectionate and clingy whenever Wolf is heavy with his eggs. Because he's the only one physically big enough to carry him, Genichiro takes it upon himself to ferry Wolf wherever he needs to go, though he doesn't always take him to where he wants to go. 

When they’re alone, Genichiro likes to trace his claws along his stretch marks. He kneads and massages his swollen body, gnawing on aching, leaking breasts. Wolf has long since gotten used to his affections, even learned to anticipate it, but he still squirms whenever Genichiro looks at him with such reverence. When he holds him, it’s as if he’s cradling something divine. 

One day, Genichiro takes him to the sand dune, as usual. He kisses him deeply, purring loud enough Wolf can feel it in his bones, and doesn’t pull away until Wolf bites his lips. He gets a growl for it, but relaxes when Wolf strokes the edge of his face. A quiet moment passes between them as Genichiro leans into his touch, turning his lips towards his palm. 

And then their children — Daiichi and Hoshime — break through the surface of the water, shrieking with laughter. Genichiro blinks and pulls away, slipping back into the ocean. Wolf sighs as he leans against the sand. 

Without the water to support him, he can feel the full weight of the eggs bearing down on his pelvis. He compensates for the strain by stuffing sand under his knees and back. Until the babies come along, there’s not much for him to do besides wait and respond to his children when they need him. He gets as comfortable as he can, and gazes out into the ocean. 

Before long, his children begin to come up out of the water.

When there aren't any babies in the way, they like to spend a bit of time on land. The older ones are content to perch nearby and talk, while the younger ones squeeze in a nap. He strokes Beetle, Hawk, Ayame, and Shizuko's hair as they doze against him. Cicada, Midori, and Kiku are reclined across the sand, listening close as Wolf regales them with a couple of myths from his childhood.

He's telling them about the Great Serpent that had once inhabited the ravines of his home, when he feels Ayame jerk against him. And then Hawk. And Beetle, and Shizuko. Wolf looks down just in time to see their eyes fly open at the same instant.

The suddenness of it, as well as the shock in their wide little eyes, makes something uneasy curl in Wolf's stomach. "What's wrong?" He asks, propping himself up on his arms.

They all turn to him. Wolf can see their vision gradually focusing, as if coming back into their own bodies. After a beat, Ayame says, "I had a funny dream, Daddy."

And Beetle says, "Me too."

And Hawk says, "I did too."

And Shizuko says nothing, but they stare up at him with such wide eyes that Wolf knows it must be the same for them as well.

"I was playing at the coral reefs," Beetle says.

"I was around here," says Ayame.

"I didn't really know where I was," Hawk says. "There was only water. It didn't feel like I was anywhere."

"I saw a light down below—“

"I started swimming towards it—“

"It got all dark—“

"It was like the abyss, like Father said—“

"The light started to get bigger, and—“

"It looked like the sun—“

"And I woke up."

Wolf is acutely aware of all of his children's eyes on him, from Cicada to Hawk. He rests a hand on his belly as he runs the other through Shizuko's hair, who has tucked themself against his chest.

"What a strange dream," Wolf concedes.

* * *

A few days later, Spider, Yuzu, Crane, and Heron come to him about their strange dreams.

Spider had been at the sand dune, Yuzu had been in the caves, Crane was following Heron, and Heron was following one of their older siblings, when they saw the light below them and swam towards it. It became dark around them, like the abyss their Father had been warned them about, and the light got bigger and bigger until it looked like the sun. And then they woke up. 

Daiichi and Snake come to him. And then Macaque, Deer, and Hoshime. It spreads like a virus, radiating out from his youngest children to the eldest. Every other day, another group of children regales him with the same dreams that the rest of their siblings have been having. It always begins differently, and it always ends the same way: the light, the darkness, and the sun. Except, as his eldest children come to him, they say the light is less like the sun, and more like the surface of the ocean. White light breaking into fractal shapes as waves wash overhead, like sunlight shining through. And right before they breach the surface, they always wake up. 

Before long, it seems that the dream follows his children every time they close their eyes. 

And then one day, Cicada tells him, "I think Father's been having those dreams too."

Wolf sighs as he turns to look at them. He’d agree, except at this point, he _knows_. Genichiro has been so distant lately, coming around less and less. When he is present, he's always distracted, glaring out into the ocean with a stormy expression and dark bags under his eyes. These past few days, their children are the ones bringing Wolf food and helping him to the sand dune. The latter is far easier said than done: the eggs have grown big enough at this point to make him sink, and Wolf can't even drag himself all the way out of the ocean because he's just so _heavy._ At least with the water to support him, he doesn't feel like his stomach is trying to snap his spine in half.

“I know,” Wolf says. “Your father is very bad at being secretive.”

“Have you been having those dreams, too?” Cicada asks.

Wolf hesitates. “No.”

“Really?”

“Really." He reaches out to tuck a stray hair behind their ear. It's starting to get long. He'll have to do something about it soon. "Maybe because I’m not like the rest of you.”

Cicada makes a face. “I guess..." They say, resting their head on their arms. "Do you at least know what the dreams mean?”

Wolf doesn't understand why, whenever confronted with such questions, his first impulse is to lie. He'd never been good at it despite his father and mentors' best efforts, and he knows that Cicada would see right through him the instant he tries. 

“I think they’re an ill omen," Wolf says after a moment.

Cicada frowns. "Omen?"

"It's a sign. Something that means something is coming, or that something is going to happen."

"Oh." Cicada looks at him thoughtfully. "And you think that something bad is going to happen."

"Yes."

Wolf has never been a particularly religious man. Certainly, he prayed at Shinto shrines and Buddhist temples, even listened a few times out of politeness when those foreign barbarians prattled on about their almighty god. He knows of the spirits that inhabit the mountains and the valleys, the demons born from the battlefields. He holds no illusions about the kind of people who made up the clan that took him in. But at night or in times of hardship, Wolf prays to no one.

But there's no denying what this is.

"How do you know?" Cicada asks, and Wolf doesn't know what to tell them. 

* * *

Finally, the babies come.

Wolf wakes up one night with a gasp, and by morning, he's back to cycling four mouths between two nipples. He takes one look at his babies, their smushed little faces and twitchy little tails, and the love that sweeps through him very nearly rips the breath out of his lungs. But he also sees how they can't open their eyes all the way, how their tails don't even have scales yet, nothing but translucent, delicate tissues, and the fear that bubbles up threatens to suffocate him. And so, as always, Wolf spends the first weeks of their lives hidden away in his den, at the very bottom of the caves. Down here, not even sunlight can reach them. Nothing will harm his babies.

For the first few days, it's just Wolf and the babies, though Cicada comes by every so often to bring him food. They coo over their new siblings, though they know better than to overstay their visit and risk four crying babies. But once they get old enough Wolf can see their Night Eyes shine through, the rest of his children begin to visit. The little ones are more interested in cuddling at his side and napping, like the way they used to when they were infants, but his older children sing to the babies. Clicks and trills and hums and a multitude of other noises that the babies soon pick up, singing to each other and at Wolf. Sometimes, it seems like they're trying to draw him into their little conversations, but all Wolf can do is hum — and not very well, if the way the babies blink blankly at him is any indication.

Genichiro comes by only once. Wolf tenses when he sees his enormous form coming down through the tunnels, but relaxes when he comes into focus. Except Genichiro, who doesn't have the Night Eye, gracelessly crams himself into the den, grabbing at Wolf's sides to make more room. It makes the baby dozing on his stomach fall off, which immediately makes them cry, which makes Genichiro jump and thrash his way out, which makes his tail smack Wolf's ribs hard enough to knock the air clean from his lungs, which the babies cry even harder. In the end, Genichiro does nothing but blink at Wolf in shock — then turns and vanishes out of the caves.

It's the last of him that Wolf sees for a long while.

Before long, the dream starts to plague the babies as well. 

He doesn’t know what he had been expecting. But when the babies all jolt awake at the same instant, chirping in confusion, Wolf feels a deep resignation sink down into his stomach. He lulls them back to sleep, but he isn't surprised when they blink awake the same way hours later.

When the babies begin smiling at him, Wolf calls Cicada, Midori, and Akane down into his den. He gives them a baby each, taking the last into his arms. The babies see sunlight for the first time in their lives, and the rest of his children are excited to finally have him back. Wolf makes his way to the sand dune, and helps the babies take their first breaths. He feeds them and naps with them, comforting them back to sleep when the dream forces them awake.

Eventually, the omen comes to pass. 

Wolf finishes feeding the babies at his chest, and sets them down in the sand for a nap. He reaches out for the remaining two held by Cicada and Akane, and they head back into the ocean to rejoin their siblings once the babies latch on. The warm sun, his children's laughter, and the everpresent roar of the waves all prove to be dangerously lulling. Wolf lies down in the sand next to his babies, and he's asleep before the ones in his arms have finished eating.

When he opens his eyes, he finds himself on a beach.

He's standing on a shore of mud. Thick, grayish mud, glistening under faint light and reeking of ozone. The sun is so distant it's little more than a ring of light on the horizon, dim and pale. Below it is the ocean, but only in vastness: the water is too calm, too dark. It sits against the mud like glass, and the color makes him think of waters at the very bottom of the world. Primordial and untouched by the sun since its conception. 

Someone is standing next to him.

He turns to them. Wolf looks, but it's like his eyes won't come into focus. He knows that they have a face, limbs, a body — but he can't actually distinguish them. All he can really discern is how pale they are, like the color of ash. They meet his gaze, and Wolf—

He thinks they might be smiling at him.

They begin to sing.

High breaths. Low hums. Melodic whistles. Wolf thinks of bell chimes dancing on the wind, the eerie howl of a beast in the mountains. Songbirds and the plucking of a stringed instrument. And words, too — almost. An apology. A promise. A gift. Fading dreams, pale little seeds, nostalgia. The sunlight is precious. There are monsters in the dark, hungry and mindless. 

Wolf doesn't understand.

He can't see their face, but he can feel their frustration. It chews on him, little teeth skating over his skin and digging into his joints. Eventually, they fall silent, leaving strange patterns of static skittering behind his eyes. They look at him, really _look_ at him, and they say

_We miss the sunlight._

_We are waiting for you._

_We already love you._

They rest a hand on his shoulder.

They push him into the ocean.

Wolf wakes up. 

His breath stills in his throat as his eyes fly open. His vision swims, focusing and unfocusing, colors blurring together. Confounding it all are afterimages dancing across his eyes, and no matter how much he blinks, he still sees the beach and the distant sun. It isn’t until his vision clears just enough that he recognizes a little sleeping face mere inches from his — and the world clicks back into place.

The babies squeak as he rolls over onto his back, but stay asleep. The sun bears down on him, warm sand on his back, the roar of the ocean all around. Wolf closes his eyes, and breaths all the way into his chest.

“Daddy?”

Wolf blinks. He turns towards the shore. Cicada is already halfway out of the water, and the look on their face — it’s fearful in a way he’s never seen them before. Wolf sits up.

“What’s wrong?” He asks.

They open their mouth. Nothing comes out. The expression on their face is gravely uncertain, like they hadn’t planned this far. They shuffle closer, and cup a hand around their mouth. Wolf leans in close.

“There’s a monster in the water,” they tell him. "Father says it came the abyss."

* * *

Wolf knows a little bit about the abyss.

Some of it is instinctual, like the understanding that the ocean’s sheer vastness can only be matched by unfathomable depths. Beyond that, however, most of his knowledge comes from his children, who in turn learned from Genichiro. They tell him that the abyss is everything in the ocean the sun can't reach, and that it’s nothing but darkness, water, and monsters. Scores upon scores of monsters, none of them alike, all of them hungry, and while the little ones are nothing more than vermin, there exists those that are so massive a mere twitch is sufficient enough to throw up a tsunami. 

Cicada tells him, “I wanted to go find Father, I hadn’t seen him in days. I looked everywhere until I reached the outskirts, and then I saw him and there was this _thing_ and...”

What Cicada describes to him doesn’t make any sense. But the fear in their eyes are real, and the more Wolf listens, the more his instincts grow tighter and colder until he wonders if something inside his own body will shatter.

Wolf runs back to the caves.

His children follow him, as they always do. They don’t like it, their playtime interrupted, but they quiet down quickly enough when Cicada hisses at them. Wolf counts his children as they stream in through the entrance, double counts as they settle into their various alcoves, and triple counts even though he knows it won’t bring him any additional peace. The rest of the day is spent comforting and entertaining his children the best he can, while fighting off the anxiety that threatens to engulf him.

The night passes easily enough.

When morning arrives, one member of his family is still missing.

Wolf spends an inordinate amount of time cursing his existence. And then he feeds the babies one last time, puts Cicada in charge, and sets off in search of that idiot.

_His_ idiot. 

He first makes his way to the sand dune. The journey is eerily quiet without his children and their constant singing, and without their company all around him, the ocean feels much bigger than he remembers. When he arrives, it's a relief to climb onto land, away from that yawning emptiness. 

Wolf looks up, and sees the hilt of the sword.

Despite how much time has passed, it hasn't moved at all from its spot. Wolf can feel it leaning into his grip as he pulls it out, as if eager to leave its lonely vigil. He had anticipated it, but he's still caught off guard by the shifting weight that hurtles towards the end of the hilt, nearly wrenching the sword out of his hand. He's forced to hold it pointed straight down as he makes his way back to shore. At the back of his head, a little voice frets about how he can possibly use something like this — but he doesn't have a choice. It's the only weapon he has.

At the shore, Wolf adjusts the sword so that it runs parallel to his arm. He braces himself, gripping the hilt tight. He slips into the water, waiting for the sword to once again fling itself away.

To his shock, it rests perfectly in his grip.

The sword's weight has stopped shifting. Even though he's close enough to the surface to feel the waves pushing against him, it doesn't move at all. Wolf blinks brings it up to his face — no resistance whatsoever.

He gives the sword an experimental swing. It cuts through water like air. He balances it on his finger, and finds it lined up perfectly and precisely. When Wolf twirls it around his wrist, it spins so smoothly that he miscalculates and drops it. 

As he leans down to pick it up, something that had long lain dormant inside of him begins to unfurl. 

* * *

Cicada once told him, a little after they could start putting together whole sentences, that they lived in something called a sanctuary. There were lots and lots of sanctuaries scattered throughout the ocean, and lots of mers used to pass through them. They got their name because they were too close to the sun for the worst monsters of the abyss to approach. Wolf had asked them if the sanctuaries are all the other mers lived, but Cicada had just shrugged. 

"Father didn't say anything about them," they replied.

Beyond that, Wolf doesn't know much else about their home. He'd lost any chance to explore further when the babies started coming along, and to be honest, he doesn't want to either. It's such an alien world, one he's barely surviving in. His children tell him about grander, lusher kelp forests, canyons big enough to ferry dolphins and whales, and shallows full of sharp crags littered with old shipwrecks and even older treasures.

They told him about the outskirts, where it all slopes off into the abyss. Where Genichiro is, right now. 

Wolf makes his way past the coral reefs, the canyons, the meadows, and the further he gets, the less life there is. The fish begin thinning out and vegetation grows sparser, until even sand gives way to bedrock. A headache begins building in the back of his head, like the walls of his skull are squeezing together. When Wolf stops and looks around, he realizes that even though it's the middle of the day, there's so little light down here it feels like dusk. 

There's something on the bedrock. It's darker than everything else around him, and the shape of it — Wolf has no idea what he's looking at.

He swims towards it. Confusion quickly gives way to disbelief. It's almost as long as he is tall, and there are too many knuckles and appendages attached to it, but there's no mistaking what it is.

_A hand._

Severed at the wrist. The cleanest slice that Wolf has ever seen. Something thick and dark oozes out from the wound, sinking to the rock and coalescing together like oil. Wolf forces himself to look away and towards the bedrock, and sure enough, there's a trail of the dark substance leading away into the darkness. 

He follows.

Wolf comes across what looks like a tentacle. There are no suckers on it, just black smoothness all over. He gives it a tentative poke with his sword, and pulls away when it twitches violently.

Various hunks of flesh scattered all over in unmistakable intervals, carved up by those same precise wounds. Some have hard lengths jutting out of the flesh — Wolf can't tell if they're supposed bone or chitin. 

He hears it before he sees it: something pulsing on the ground, various corners of it beating out of sync like the chambers of a heart. That thick, brackish blood oozes from it continuously. When Wolf drifts closer, the beats quicken until he can feel the water shuddering around him. It doesn't stop until Wolf runs it through with his sword, and flings it away from him into the darkness.

The trail keeps going and going until Wolf wonders if he's swum an entire lap around his home. Those bits and pieces are all over, so much that Wolf wonders just how big this thing is. And then he hears it: a screech. A shriek. A scream. It's distant, but there's something about it that sets his teeth on edge, rakes sharp nails along the wings of his shoulder blades. Wolf swallows hard, causing his ears to pop and alleviating some of the pressure that had begun building behind his eyes. He tightens his grip on his sword, and swims towards the sound.

Eventually, he finds it.

A misshapen thing looming the darkness. It lurches along the ground like some kind of dying animal, and there's this low, constant noise that Wolf can feel in his bones. As he approaches, a nauseating sort of realization begins to rise. He may never be as fast a swimmer like Genichiro or his children, but he's by no means a slow one. Not after his training, not after all this time in ocean. But despite how much ground he's covering, the _size_ of that thing isn't changing at all.

It screams. There's no distance to dull it this time. Wolf feels his heart stutter and static dances across his vision and and his ears ring loud enough to hurt and a very old, primal emotion freezes him in place. Suddenly, all Wolf can think of is how _small_ he is. How insignificant and helpless in the face of this thing.

And then—

Something moves. A shape, darting away. Completely different from that thing. And all too familiar.

_Genichiro._

Wolf blinks. And he continues to approach.

He keeps close to the seafloor. There's no cover out here, nothing for him to hide behind. He pulls himself along by the cracks in the bedrock, sword dangling from his ring finger and pinky. He watches Genichiro dart back towards the monster, and his heart stops when it unleashes another scream. Genichiro swims away, and in his hand is a sword. Another one. As long and as broad as a nodachi, maybe even bigger, and straight-edged instead of curved. It's as dark as Wolf's. Genichiro gives his blade a flick, and another chunk of flesh falls to the ground.

The monster turns to face him. Genichiro moves away. Wolf moves closer, until he can see it.

_Really_ see it. 

A deformed, broken thing. Writhing protuberances poke out of its body like feeders, and long, bony hands with too many fingers and too many knuckles scrabble against the rock to drag its enormous body around. All over it are eyes, rolling in their sockets. As Genichiro circles the monster, those eyes track him with an unblinking focus. That low noise leaps into a high keen, and one of the feeders slam down onto the rock hard enough to make the earth tremble. Genichiro dodges around it, and takes off the top half of the feeder for the trouble.

Wolf braces himself for the scream. It still makes a completely different kind of pressure mount behind his eyes. 

Geichiro moves around the side of it, and the monster turns to face him. Wolf keeps close. He has no idea what he's going to do, how he can possibly help, if this is where he even needs to be in the first place — but he doesn't want to leave. A part of him is scared, not of the monster, but of what might happened to Genichiro. If he's killed—

Something catches Wolf's eye.

At this angle, he can see the stump of a tentacle that's been completely hacked away. And past it, an eye. Bigger than all the rest, at the center of monster's body. It's as grotesque as the rest of it, but there's something growing across it. Something pale and ashen. Spreading across the eye like mold, digging into its hide like the roots of a tree. Wolf blinks, and he sees a distant sun. The smell of ozone flits through his thoughts.

Wolf pushes himself off the ground and towards the monster.

It's so focused on Genichiro it doesn't see him approach. Not even when he passes its other eyes, or when he grabs at a tentacle to steady himself and his fingers sink into its flesh like mud. Not until Wolf situates himself over that infected eye, swallowing down his repulsion, and raises his sword over it.

The eye swivels. It focuses on him. Its warped iris twitches.

He drives the blade in. It screams, and Wolf blinks out of his body.

When he comes back to himself, he's staring up into Genichiro's face, pale and draw with fear. His arms are wrapped around him tight, and Genichiro croons as he buries his face into Wolf's neck. Wolf leans into his hold and closes his eyes. And then there's a sharp pain in his neck, right at the junction with his shoulder, and he jerks away. Wolf stares at Genichiro in disbelief, and he's met by a gaze bright with retribution.

Wolf hears a low, guttural noise, and turns around.

The monster flails and writhes on the bedrock. The feeders squirm wildly, as those many hands claw at its body. Wolf can't look away. The monster shrieks and suddenly a hand pulls away, fingers closed into a fist. Whatever it's holding, it's pulling that gray growth out with it. Pale roots stretching taut, ripping out flesh, snapping like ropes, until it all comes free. The monster goes still. 

It wheezes. Sighs. The tentacles drift to the seafloor as the hands slam onto the bedrock. What eyes that haven't been ripped out spin slowly towards the center. The noise it makes as it dies makes bile rise in his throat. 

Genichiro leaves his side. Wolf follows as he approaches the monster.

He beelines for the hand. It takes only a few swipes of his sword before the fingers and roots are falling away. Wolf looks over his shoulder as Genichiro reaches into the monster's palm.

He pulls out something small, pale and ashen. Like a little seed.

* * *

They don't go back home. Not immediately.

Instead, Genichiro takes the seed and rests it against a small outcropping to keep it from rolling away, and swims back to the carcass. Wolf watches as he grabs one of the feeders and hacks it away from the body, then hacks at it again and again until they're small enough to fit in his arms. Genichiro looks over at him and makes a low, throaty click. Wolf takes the hint: he picks up his sword and cuts through another feeder, while Genichiro gathers up the hunks of flesh and swims further into the darkness.

When he comes back, his arms are empty.

The day gradually passes into the next morning. Wolf is puzzling over a particularly stubborn part of the main body, something his sword just won't cut through, when he hears a series of small and all too familiar clicks. He whirls around, and there's Cicada, Akane, and Midori, hovering close with enormous eyes fixed on the remains. Panic rushes into Wolf's chest — until he hears a very sad and pitiful cry, and he sees the babies in their arms.

Wolf sits nearby with his children, babies suckling away with a vengeance, as Genichiro takes over carving up the monster. Like him, he struggles at that particular spot, blade refusing to go more than a few inches, but instead of frustration, there's excitement all over his face. Wolf looks on warily as he opens up the wound until he can reach inside — and pulls out a spear. An entire _spear._ As black as their blades, the shaft and tip nearly indistinguishable from each other. Genichiro whistles, and Cicada hurries over before Wolf can stop them. 

Genichiro pulls out three more spears, five blades, a number of knives, and an absurd length of sinewy ropes. Cicada and his elder children dutifully ferry it all from their father to Wolf, who has to bite back to temptation to use the ropes to tie up the babies so they'll stop trying to get to the weapons.

Once the monster has been completely emptied out, Genichiro swims over, beaming, and takes Cicada's hand. He presses a knife into their palm, and then does the same for Akane and Midori. He croons at the babies, but to Wolf's relief, he leaves them alone.

Before long, the rest of their children come to investigate.

Wolf feels his heart sink when he hears them coming down the slope, tremulous tunes bouncing through the water. Genichiro calls back, and soon, they’re swarming over the area. The smallest ones cluster at Wolf’s side, while the rest hover over the corpse with that same look of amazement. Wolf is relieved when Genichiro clicks at the little ones and they zip back up the slope — later, he’ll learn that they had been sent to catch food for everyone else, and being so eager to please and so put off by how dark and empty everything is out here, they had left without question. The rest of his children, however, aren’t nearly as lucky. 

Genichiro puts them to work: the younger ones are given knives and told to cut up the monster with Wolf. The older ones are told to pick up the spoils and bring it back home. The oldest grab the parts of the monster and carry it out into the darkness with Genichiro, taking what feels like an eternity with each trip.

Wolf isn't entirely sure how long they're all out there, carving up the monster like butchers and casting it piece by piece back into the abyss. It's big enough he knows it takes them at least a few days. He doesn't know why they need to do this — but he understands. Whatever this thing is, it doesn't belong in any place where there's light. 

Finally, there's nothing left. Nothing but those globules of black, oily blood slowly sliding back into the abyss. His children hurry back to the shallows with their knives in hand, singing. Wolf gathers his three babies close, and Genichiro gathers them all into his arms. He carries them back home, back to the caves, and back into Wolf's den. He sets Wolf down, purring, and curls around him and their children. 

It's dark enough that Genichiro doesn't see the pale little seed underneath him. Wolf grabs it before he crushes beneath his bulk, and cradles it close to his chest.

He falls asleep, arms wrapped around his babies, Genichiro's arms wrapped around them all.

* * *

Wolf dreams of the ocean.

He's underwater, blinking up at the surface. White light dances around him, breaking into fractal shapes. It's peaceful down here. Calm and quiet and weightless, empty enough to get lost in. He isn't entirely sure why he starts moving towards the sun.

As soon as Wolf breaks through the surface, his lungs burn. He drags air into his lungs like a drowning man, one ragged breath at a time. His ears ring and his vision swims in and out of focus, and his feet suddenly finds itself scraping against sand. He digs his heels in for purchase, but it gives away too easily, too soft to hold him in. The ocean rises around him, pulling him back under.

Something wraps around his forearms, and pulls him out. 

Wolf sinks into grayish mud. His head swims with the stench of ozone as he struggles to his feet. When he looks up, he sees a dim sky. Wolf whirls around, back towards the dark ocean as still as glass, and sees a distant sun. A ring of light on the horizon.

Someone is standing next to him.

A woman.

Pale. A little gray. He feels like he's seen her before. She's smiling at him, and it's so full of warmth that any suspicions or misgivings he may have had fade away. Wolf feels like he _knows_ her, from a very long time ago.

"Hello, Wolf," she says.

"Hello," he replies.

A bolt of embarrassment strikes him. He's covered in mud from the beach, and the parts of him that aren't are still drenched with seawater. He wonders if he's even wearing clothes — he can't bring himself to look down and check.

The woman hums. She reaches out, and takes his hand. 

"It's so good to finally meet you," she tells him, in a voice that makes him think of mothers singing lullabies. "Genichiro has told me so much. You're everything he said you would be."

Wolf doesn't know how to respond to that. All he has now are questions, and he doesn't know how to ask them either. He looks at her — and he has to look away. Her eyes are so full of so many emotions he doesn't know how to handle it.

"I'm sorry for scaring you and your family," she continues. "We didn't mean to. I promise you we didn't hurt your children, but we didn't have a choice."

Wolf feels himself grow cold. Something like anger wells up in his chest. But before he can pull his hand out of her grip, her other hand comes up and rests against his face. Wolf stiffens — and relaxes as those earnest eyes bore into him.

"Don't worry. I won't bother them again," she says. "If they want to speak to me, they know how to find me. I've already told them who I am. Except for you."

She takes both of his hands into hers. She wears all of her expressions so openly and utterly naked on her face that Wolf can almost read every single one of her thoughts. Worry, frustration, fear, exhaustion, and _grief_. She doesn't stop smiling, but Wolf can see it falter.

"I've known Genichiro since he was very little. We love him, and all of your children. And we love you. There's something we have to ask of you, but — I have so much I need to tell you."

"Can I tell you a story?" The pale woman asks.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s a very long story.

_It starts a long time ago, at the bottom of the abyss._

_I'm sure you were told that the abyss is endless. That there's nothing but darkness and monsters down there, and that the darkness goes on forever while the monsters get bigger and hungrier and less and less.... fathomable._

_They're almost right. The things that live down there were never meant to know the sun. And the deeper you go, the worse they are. But it's far from empty, and there exists an end. I know this, because that's where I came from._

_I don't remember when or where I began, or even how. But I do know that I was down there for a very, very long time. And I.... spent all of that time asleep. Dreaming. I think was supposed to stay like that for the rest of eternity._

_But something happened. A part of me — a tiny, tiny part — I think it drifted too far away. Far enough that it came loose, and I broke away. I was so small I didn't even have the strength to keep from floating away, let alone find my way back. And so I kept going and going, past all of the monsters and the darkness and the dreams. I had no idea where I was headed, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. But then....._

_The darkness began to fade._

* * *

The sun beats down on his back as Wolf digs out a hole at the top of the sand dune. He can hear his children laughing over the waves, and out of the corner of his eye, he can see the babies all piled on top of each other. They should be napping right now, but they're watching Cicada instead. Whatever they're telling them, it's thrilling enough that Wolf can hear the babies trying to repeat some of the words. Squeaky little noises that make him smile far more than it should. 

Wolf digs until he reaches damp sand. He isn't sure if all this is actually necessary, but he still pats the sand down into a bowl-shaped depression. He reaches behind him, feeling around until his fingers brush against something cool, and closes his hands around the little seed.

Under direct sunlight, it seems to shine white instead of gray. Wolf rolls it into the depression, and moves to cover it. He stops. After a moment, he leaves it the way it is.

Cicada looks up as he makes his way back towards them. The babies follow their gaze, and their little faces break out into grins. The nearest two flop onto his lap as soon as he's close enough, giggling. Wolf strokes their hair.

"Was Cicada telling you a story?" He asks. A chorus of 'yes.' "Don't let me stop you, then."

It's a simple enough story. A tale of two star-crossed lovers, separated by increasingly terrible circumstances, but still utterly devoted to each other. The babies finally drift off around the part where one has been swallowed whole by a monster, and their other half decides to follow it into the abyss in order to free them. Wolf feels himself grow cold as Cicada trails off.

"Who taught you that story?" he asks.

Cicada hesitates. Wolf holds their gaze. After a moment, they mutter, "The pale lady."

The cold turns to fear. "Did she tell you anything else?"

Cicada looks at him strangely. But to Wolf's relief, they shake their head, and he can see no trace of deceit on their eyes. He looks away, towards the little ones draped all over his legs.

"It's a good story," he murmurs.

* * *

_I don't know how to explain to you what it was like to experience light for the first time. Your words — the way you communicate isn't enough. All I can say is that when I finally reached the surface and saw the sun.... it changed everything._

_I was too small to make my way back into the abyss. And as it turns out, too weak to leave the ocean too. I had no choice but to stay there at the surface, beholden to wherever the waves carried me. Given enough time and effort, I would've eventually figured something out, but in all honesty.... I didn't want to leave._

_I don't know how long I was by myself, drifting through the ocean. I watched the sun rise and set, I endured the storms and the fogs, and on clear nights, I looked up into a sky teaming with stars. And life — it was everywhere. No matter where I went, I was never truly alone. The fires that burned in all of you were so small, smaller than even me, and you burned so bright and faded so quickly. It took me a long time to understand that this wasn't a tragedy. Though, to be honest, I think I'm still trying._

_You were all the same to me, in the beginning. For the longest time, the only thing that enthralled me was the sun, which burned brighter than anything else and might even outlast me. But eventually, I began to realize there were beings like me. Almost. They were small, yes. Mortal and short-lived. But they could dream. The mers, alive in a way that even I could understand._

_There were so many of them back then. The mers crossed the whole ocean in pods, following the migration of their prey, rarely ever staying in one place for long. I never went out of my way to seek them out, but our paths crossed often. And when they did, I couldn't resist taking a peek into their dreams. I did this often enough that they came to know me. Even gave me a name._

_It.... wasn't a very kind name. I was of the abyss, and they knew it. And the mers had good reason to fear everything that came from it._

_You have to understand: Almost all of the ocean is open water. The open water leads directly to the abyss, and it's out there that monsters of the abyss will rise, devouring untold numbers of mer. Your kind worships gods, beseeching them for mercies or gifts. The mer had no such system — nothing but a deep, abiding fear of the abyss._

_I was an intruder, in those days. I didn't belong in this world anymore than the vermin and the monsters did. I knew it, and I respected it. And I — I think that if I were still out there, drifting through the waves and gazing upon the sun, I would've been happy. I would've been content, even if all I did was exist._

_Of course, that's not what happened._

* * *

Three eggs are only slightly better than four. It's still early enough into the pregnancy that Wolf can haul himself onto the sand dune, though the weight bearing down on his pelvis is almost enough to lure him back into the water. His littlest ones follow him onto shore, clamoring not for food but for comfort. Kaede, Haru, Mao, and Rei have been weaned for a number of weeks now, but they're still unused to spending their waking hours without him. And Wolf has never been one to say no when his children want his attention.

It's easy enough to doze off under the warm sun, listening to his children chatter and giggle nearby. Wolf lays down on his side, one arm beneath his head and the other thrown over his belly. The dryness in his eyes quickly turns into a dangerously lulling weight that makes him lose all sense of time.

It isn’t until he hears, "Dad?" that Wolf blinks back into the world.

There’s no mistaking the voice of his eldest. "Cicada?" He mumbles, sitting up. Wolf looks around, and realizes that the little ones are gone. It’s just him and Cicada on the sand dune, and the look on their face is enough to make him concerned. "What's wrong?"

They hesitate. Shuffle closer. Almost close enough for Wolf to reach out and pull them into his arms, where he can run gentle fingers through their hair to soothe them. They tell him, "Father says another monster is going to come up soon. The pale lady told him so, and he told us that he's going to follow it to make sure it won't get too close. And he told us to tell you to not worry if he doesn't come home for a few days."

That isn't good news, but it isn't bad news either. These waters are too shallow and bright for monsters to get anywhere near his family. Of course, Wolf isn't thrilled about Genichiro heading out to follow it, but it's not like he can do anything about it with three eggs inside of him.

"I won't," Wolf replies. "Just tell him to be careful and come home soon."

Cicada nods. There's a faint hint of a smile — but then that pensive look comes over their face again. "Father also said that he's worried about vermin. We're too close to the sun for the monsters to get to us, but vermin are small enough to hide in the shadows. And Father won't be able to hunt vermin when the monster is here, so...."

Understanding slowly dawns.

"He wants us to do it while he's gone," Cicada continues, fast enough they stumble over a few syllables. "So tomorrow, he's going to take some of us to the outskirts and show us how to find vermin. He says that we're old enough now, and that we have to start protecting the pod too. And...."

This isn't the first time that Cicada has talked about helping Genichiro hunt vermin. And it certainly wouldn't be the first time that Wolf shut them down. The 'no' is right there on his tongue, it's been there the moment Wolf caught on — but it doesn't come out. Because what makes this moment different from all the rest is the way Cicada isn't speaking in hypotheticals or asking him for permission. They aren't lying to him either. 

This is happening. 

"Father says that you can teach us how to kill them," Cicada says.

Wolf wonders how old he was the first time his father showed him how to properly hold a blade. 

He wonders how old his children are now.

* * *

_One day, as I was bobbing along the waves, I came upon the aftermath of a monster attack. Normally, there's very little remaining of such attacks, because the monsters are usually big enough to swallow full-grown mers whole, leaving only the survivors to pass on the news. But every so often, the pod will fights back. And when that happens, it almost always ends up in carnage._

_I already knew what I was going to find. I could feel the monster when it rose up from the depths, and I saw the way their fires winked out as they were devoured. The ones that burned bright enough to blind, I knew they fought back. I knew exactly what I was going to find._

_Still, it was a terrible thing to behold._

_The monster had since left. But the water was still red, and bodies still floated on the surface. Scavengers were beginning to close in, gulls from the sky and sharks from the ocean. The pod that had been attacked was not an exceptionally large one, but it was still big enough that I soon found myself trapped behind a tangle of bodies and limbs._

_I could've moved them out of the way myself. But I was patient enough to wait. Either the scavengers would move them for me, or the waves would separate them. And as I waited... it didn't take me long to realize that I wasn't alone._

_There was a survivor. Just one. A child, clinging to the corpse of his dam. A timid, fluttering little flame._

_I was curious. The little ones always had such vivid, playful dreams. And of course, there were no adults left to herd him away. So I reached out to him, and all I found was anguish. Nothing but despair. You know what it's like, to lose your entire world, and I know it too. But back then, all I knew was that this little one was in so much pain he was going to die from it. I knew what he wanted so badly to see. and I gave him just that._

_You might consider it unspeakably cruel of me to take the form of his dam. It wasn't even a good imitation to begin with — I still had all the hallmarks of abyss despite my best efforts. Had I tried this with anyone else, they might've even been insulted._

_But the child — when I called out to him, he looked up at me with such big, desperate eyes. He darted straight into my arms, and..._

_And...._

* * *

Wolf's childhood had been full of blood and steel. First, it was the endless wars that left him an orphan, and then it was the training his father and mentors had put him through to make him into a shinobi. For a long time, violence was all that Wolf knew, all that he could do. 

His children know no such thing. That's precisely what makes it so hard to teach them.

His elder children are old enough that they aren't difficult students. They listen close to him, copying his movements to the best of their abilities. They're clumsy and even flighty at times, but Wolf isn't expecting any miracles. He's not like his father, holding them to impossibly high standards. He can't bring himself to punish them the same way the Owl did to him. 

Regardless of whatever Genichiro told them, Wolf doesn't teach them to kill. He teaches them to stay alive — or so he tells himself, at least. "When you find a vermin," he says. "Don't move in haste. Let it make the first move. How fast is it? Does it flee, or does it lash out? What does it use to attack with? Does it have eyes? All eyes are weak points, but be careful. As you move into striking distance, it's also close enough for the vermin to grab you as well."

The spears and swords recovered from the monster's bowels are still too big for his children to wield. Wolf will only let them take the knives, and even then he has to alter them. His children bring him lengths of bone and coral, which he attaches the knives to using the black ropes. There's a strange stickiness to the ropes that keeps the knives anchored in place; Wolf wraps them over the shafts and covers them in sand to serve as grips. They aren't the most graceful spears, but they'll do exactly what he needs them to. 

He needs his children to come back to him, alive and whole. Each and every single one. 

Genichiro starts taking them to the outskirts. Wolf can't find it in him to relax, even when they come back safe and sound. When the monster finally arrives and Genichiro vanishes, Wolf is deeply tempted to retrieve his sword and follow his children. He'd left it at the top of the sand dune, right next to the little seed, which had since taken root. Tiny pale tendrils reaching deep into the sand.

The only thing stopping him are the eggs in his belly. It's enough to drive him mad, anxiety building in his bones until it feels like he'll start unraveling. All the terrible things that could happen to them — they're starting to come back with wounds — what if _none_ of them comes back — sometimes, it gets bad enough that Wolf can't breathe. The little ones, his children that are too young to hunt vermin, they do their best to comfort him, and though he smiles at them for their sake, there's only so much they can do.

It isn't his children start bringing back trophies that Wolf — he doesn't relax. But he does start to trust them. 

Everything that comes from the abyss must be thrown back into it. The only exception to this otherwise ironclad rule are the weapons pulled from the corpses. The vermin are too small to have anything more than a few knives inside then, perhaps a sword or even a spear. But to his children, they're as good as gold. They present the weapons to him like retainers presenting gifts to their lord, and Wolf marvels over them all. Most of them, they keep, but a few are left with him.

"For when you have to teach the next ones," they say.

* * *

_I knew, theoretically, what love was. I'd felt in previous dreams, in all of its many forms and its endless intensities. But I never had anything love me, you understand. And the moment that little mer laid eyes on me.... all of the love he had for his dam, his sire, and all of his dead siblings focused on me. He loved me, and that was the moment when I really began to understand this world._

_I took him away from that awful place. Far, far away, until it was just the two of us and the ocean all around. And for a while, it was just that. His entire pod was gone, and I didn't have anyone or anything to begin with. He knew what I was, but still he wouldn't leave. Most of the time, he wouldn't even let go of me._

_I found myself tricking fish into coming towards us, because he was too scared to chase after them no matter how hungry he was. He taught me how to communicate properly, and fixed my appearance so that I looked more natural. He guided me through the ocean instead of going wherever the winds took me, and I helped him name the stars._

_It was strange, how quickly things changed. For most of my existence, I didn't have to think about anything besides the present or myself. But with him.... I wanted him to be happy. I wanted him to be safe. I wanted him to always be with me. And that meant making sure he was fed, that I kept the monsters as far away from us as possible, that I knew how to soothe him when he cried in his sleep, and that I was always the first thing he saw when I woke up. Those days were some of the hardest and longest I've ever endured._

_And I wouldn't trade a single instant of it for anything._

_But then he told me, "We have to find my grandfather."_

_And those days came to an end._

* * *

Once the babies are put down for a nap, Wolf takes the chance to scale the sand dune. He makes his way to the top easily enough, moving his sword out of the way as he kneels down for a better look. The little seed has finally sprouted and become a little sapling — two leaves attached to a thin stalk. It looks so much like any other sapling on land that Wolf is baffled by it, though its pale and eerie color still gives it away.

Despite the storm that had swept through a few days ago, the sapling seems to be entirely unaffected. Wolf pats the sand around it, just to be sure that nothing has come loose, and turns to start making his way back down.

To his surprise, Genichiro is there at the shore, staring up at him. He’s normally at the outskirts around this time, hunting vermin with their children. Most of him is still underwater, but as Wolf slides down the sand dune, he can just barely make something out in his arms.

“Genichiro,” he says quietly, to avoid waking the babies. A smile rises unbidden to his face — but Genichiro doesn’t return it. Instead he stares at him, eyes wide and dark, expression curiously blank. He’s right there, but it feels like no one is home.

Wolf says his name again. Genichiro blinks, and looks at him. Really looks. And then he lifts his arms out of the water.

Wolf doesn’t know what he’s looking at, at first. There’s a moment where he sees it, but it won’t process. He can’t understand it. His world grinds to a halt as he grows numb, cold and empty on the inside. A strange ring fills his ears.

There is a little face. Little arms. Little tail. Lifeless little eyes. There is red at their mouth, red all over their torso, and a tiny splotch of red on their tail. Akane. His little baby.

Later, he’ll learn that while they were at the outskirts, Akane had suddenly drifted from the group. Maybe they saw a vermin and wanted the glory for themselves, or the vermin had snatched them away before anyone else noticed. Whatever the reason, by the time Genichiro heard their screams, it was already too late. All that could be done was put them out of their misery, and take revenge.

But for now.... Wolf steps out of his body. Time passes strangely around him, too slow and too fast all at once. He’s distantly aware of babies suckling at his breast, children curling up at his side, sad and desperate voices occasionally cutting through the static. Genichiro crooning and singing, pulling him into his arms. He tries to think about Akane, but all he can see is the little red splotch on their tail.

Wolf isn’t entirely sure how much time passes. But one day, he blinks and finds himself on the beach. Cicada is sitting next to him, pressing something into his hands. It looks almost like a tanto, except it’s too straight. Too dark. Too cold.

“It was Akane’s,” Cicada tells him quietly. 

Wolf stares at it for a long time.

Eventually, he gets to his feet. He scales the sand dune, all the way to the top. The white sapling gleams under the sun, bright enough to hurt his eyes. Wolf falls to his knees in front of it, and drives Akane’s tanto into the sand. 

And for the first time in a long time, he prays.

* * *

_Because of how dangerous the ocean is, orphans are so incredibly common. But they aren't left fend for themselves — it would be certain death otherwise. So when they lose their parents, they'll seek out their dam's dam or their sire's sire. And my little one wanted to find the latter._

_I.... was unhappy. I was afraid that he was going to leave me, or that they would make him leave. And I didn't understand why he needed to find his grandfather, when he already had me. It hurt enough it almost felt like betrayal._

_But he was so insistent. My little one brought me to a sanctuary, where we began to look. I had to hide, because if the other mers saw me, there was no telling how they might react. The form I had taken was just small enough to be considered a vermin, and therefore capable of being killed. And so, during the day, my little one searched on his own, asking the mers passing through where he might be able to find his grandfather. And at night, I walked through their dreams to see if I could find anything._

_I won't lie: I hoped that he wouldn't find his grandfather. I wanted it to be just the two of us, forever and always. But one day, along came a mer with blue and gold scales, just like my little one — and they found each other. All I could do was watch._

_My little one had promised me that he would never leave me. That he wouldn't go with his grandfather if I couldn't come. And I.... I suppose I didn't believe him. How could I forget how scared the rest of his kind were whenever I got too close to them, and how he wanted to find his grandfather so badly it made him cry. So when he brought his grandfather to me, I braced myself for the inevitable. And, well..._

_You know, I never really got a straight answer out of that fool. But I think he took pity on me. There was no denying I was from the deep — and that I had nothing and no one at all. Because he took one look at me, smiled, and asked if I would like to join them._

* * *

At some point when Wolf wasn't looking, the sapling became a tree.

_Almost_ a tree. The trunk is still thin and delicate, barely as tall as he is, and what few branches it's managed to sprout resemble ghostly hands grasping at the sky. There are no leaves or bark growing from it — just these strange growths dangling from the ends of the branches, like butterfly cocoons.

With each passing day, those cocoons seem to grow more and more numerous. It soon reaches the point where the branches are sagging beneath the weight, like the whole sapling is going to topple over in the next strong breeze. Wolf asks Cicada about it, but all he gets is a cryptic smile. 

"It's a surprise," they tell him.

It's not much of an answer. But Wolf knows that's all his eldest is going to tell him, so he leaves it at that. He has other, more pressing issues to worry about, at any rate. For example, the two eggs inside of him that decide they want to come out a few days later. It takes several weeks before Wolf can visit the sand dune again, and by then, he's completely forgotten about any sort of surprises. 

Once the babies are fed and put down for a nap, Wolf heads up the sand dune. He's thinking about what to say, if he should apologize for not visiting in so long, when he looks up — and instantly wonders if he's dreaming again.

The tree is covered in gleaming white blossoms.

The petals are too big, the texture reminds him of freshly sprouted oak leaves, and it probably isn't even the right season. But there's no denying what it is, what the tree is trying to copy: cherry blossoms. All of them gleaming under the sun like stars.

They don't fall like cherry blossoms, either. After the shock wears off and he confirms that he is indeed awake, Wolf mutters an apology as he plucks three flowers. He makes his way over to the three knives driven into the sand, and carefully sets them down. One for Akane, another for Hornet, and the last for Kohaku. It's a strange contrast — pitch black blades against brilliant white flowers. He doesn't know why it makes his heart ache so much.

Wolf says a prayer for his children. The same one he says everyday. Once he finishes, he turns to make his way back down the sand dune — though not without grabbing another flower right before he leaves.

Surely the Pale Lady won't mind. 

His children marvel over it. The babies seem to think its food. After passing through so many hands (and a few mouths), the flower is a little wilted by the afternoon. Wolf gently pries it out of a sleeping baby's hand, and holds it close to his chest as he curls around them. He still needs to show it to Genichiro and the rest of his children when they come back from the outskirts.

Wolf dozes off beneath the warm sun. Then he feels something brush against his fingers, and he has his hands closed around the perpetrator before he's even awake.

"Dad. It's me." Wolf blinks. Focuses. After a beat, he relaxes, and lets go of the flower.

Like the tree, Cicada had grown bigger when Wolf wasn't looking. They're nowhere near true adulthood yet, but they look almost as old as he did when his father began giving him missions. They even have scars of their own now, discolored flesh all shiny and ragged over their body. Wolf doesn't know whether he should be proud or weary.

Cicada hands the flower back with a small laugh. "The Pale Lady told me she had a surprise for you, but even I didn't know what she was going to do," they say. "It's beautiful, though. Do you like it?"

"Of course." Wolf allows a small smile to rise to his face. "Though I think she tried to model it after cherry blossoms. It's close, but they should be smaller. Pink, too."

Cicada smiles as Wolf makes a rough estimate of their size with his fingers — but it doesn't reach their eyes. Wolf knows that look: the thoughtful one they wear whenever they're looking for the right words. He'd learned the hard way that there's very rarely ever good news following it

Finally, Cicada says, "Dad, you know what this means, right?"

Wolf says nothing.

"It means that we can go into the abyss now. These flowers can light our way. It'll mark our safe passage home."

Wolf says nothing. He can't. A part of him has always known that this was coming, but that doesn't make it any easier. It's already bad enough sending his children into the jaws of vermin. But the abyss?

It must be done. He knows they don't have a choice. But...

"Did the Pale Lady ever tell you why you have to go into the abyss?"

Cicada blinks. "To put the monsters to sleep," they say, so confident and ignorant.

Wolf doesn't know if he should be relieved or dismayed. Relieved that he can explain this to his children on his own terms, or that he's the one who's going to have to tell them what's waiting for them down there.

"I need to tell you a story," he says.

Later — much later, after his babies have been weaned and named, Sakura and Ren — Wolf follows his elder children and Genichiro to the outskirts. They're all carrying those flowers, bright in the dimness of the depths. He lets Genichiro kiss him for as long as he likes, and his children, the ones who will be descending, Wolf embraces them. Each and every single one, trying to soak up as much touch as he possibly can. His babies, his little ones. Off to save the world.

He can only stall them for so long. When they finally leave, Wolf stays where he is, tracking the light of their flowers. It isn't until the darkness swallows them whole and his Night Eye can no longer find them that Wolf finally moves away. Back towards the rest of his children and the sun. 

* * *

_I said yes. How on earth could I say no?_

_I followed them. I remember arriving to a ridge of sand, close to the surface, and stumbling upon a pod that made entirely of children. Grandchildren. His mate had passed some time ago, and all of his children had long since departed to form their own pods. I remember my little one's grandfather telling me that whenever a grandchild turned up looking for him, it was both a great joy and a great despair. A great joy, because he had another little one to love. A great despair, because it meant that one of his own children was dead. And he had no small amount of grandchildren in his pod._

_They were all afraid of me, at first. One of the very small ones even started to cry. But my little one and his grandfather, they defended me. They said that I was kind and good, and that it didn't matter if I came from the abyss. After all, if I really was no different from the monsters, I would've just eaten my little one the moment I found him, wouldn't I?_

_Of course, not all of them were convinced. But it didn't matter. I had a place in his grandfather's pod. For the first time, I belonged._

_Those were such good days. Together, we crossed the entire ocean, the sun on our skin and scales. I kept the monsters and the vermin away during the day, and at night, I gave everyone sweet dreams. I learned how to be a mer — what it really meant. All of their stories and traditions, passed on using little more than their own songs, from elders to children to whoever was in the next generation. And... perhaps the mers never would've accepted me no matter how long I was with them or how hard I tried. But at least I could tell them a good story._

_And my little one — oh, I'll always call him that. He'll always be the little thing that loved me first before anything else in existence. But he didn't stay little for long. One moment, I could still gather him into my arms — and the next, I was completely dwarfed in his shadow. Seeing him grow up like that, I was so proud. I still am._

_But eventually, it was time for him to leave._

* * *

His family returns home a few days later.

The wait is an agonizing one. To have so much of his children gone, and to such a dangerous place — the anxiety nearly consumes him. Wolf tries to keep life moving as normally as possible, but it isn't easy when the little ones who are still with him won't stop asking questions. Where is everyone, why did they leave, are you going to leave too? Some of it, Wolf can't answer, and others, he won't answer. But he can at least reassure them that he isn't going anywhere. 

Without Genichiro curling around him and his babies as they sleep, the nights become long and unbearable. Almost every waking minute is spent knelt in front of the tree, praying not just for his deceased children, but also for the safe journey of the ones still alive.

That's where they find him, when they come home. First, there's an eerie silence that makes his hackles rise, because silent children are never a good sign — and then they burst onto shore, calling for him, and Wolf very nearly pulls something hurrying down. Genichiro even hauls himself onto land so that he can pull him into his lap, purring low and throaty like a tiger.

His children inundate him with stories. Most of the abyss is disappointingly empty, but there was one monster that had begun to stalk them. An ugly, bulbous thing whose description makes Wolf think of bullfrogs, if bullfrogs had six pairs of legs that split off into innumerable tentacles. The flowers had kept it at bay just enough for them to reduce it to pieces drifting down into the abyss, and it provided safe passage when it was time for them to return.

Some of his children are sporting wounds. Wolf takes some comfort in the fact that none of it seems particularly life-threatening. But far more importantly, none of his children are dead. No blades to drive into the sand at the top of the sand dune, no names to include in the prayers that he says every day. Everyone is home, together with him.

Before long, they have to leave for the abyss again. 

His family return within a week. A monster with a long, sinewy neck with countless folds, and another that only moved when they did accosted them. Genichiro brings him Sparrow's blade.

They leave again. A week and a half. Hands with too many fingers and knuckles rising from the darkness, swaying in the current like kelp. No deaths, but Ume will no longer see out of that left eye anymore.

Again. Three weeks. The earth beneath them turned into flesh embedded with eyes and teeth. Wolf spends days and nights at Moth and Macaque's sides, nursing them back to health and praying constantly.

Again. A month. A monster bigger than anyone's field of vision. Moth's blade.

Again.

Again. 

Again.

Again.

* * *

_A pod is made of a sire, a dam, and their children. The sire grows the eggs and lays them, while the dam seeds the eggs and nurtures them. Their egg clutches tend to be much bigger and come along much more frequently than yours. Enough that back then, they used to say that the ideal number of children to bear and raise is one hundred. Of course, it wasn't at all easy, given the kind of world they lived in.... but it was still something that many strove for. And succeeded in._

_Mer children come out of the womb ready to swim, unlike yours who are born so frail you have to hide them from the world. You give your whole body to them just so they can survive, while we're already teaching ours how to hunt and chase down prey. There's no denying how curious and adventurous your little ones are.... but they'll always come back to you. There's just enough of you in their blood that you'll always be home to them._

_That's not how it was for us. Our children stayed in the pod they were born in, living among their parents and siblings, until they became old enough to fend for themselves. They would leave and set out into the ocean, so that they could find a mate and create their own pods. Parents saw them off knowing there was a good chance they would never see them again, and the young mers left knowing there was a good chance they would die. It was just the way of things back then._

_Still, it hurt when it was my little one's turn._

_I couldn’t stop him. I knew better than to try. Leaving wasn’t just tradition — it was woven into the very fabric of their being. Even just asking to go with him would’ve been unspeakably cruel of me. All I could do was beg him to stay safe and to come find us whenever he could... and then I said goodbye._

_I kept a strong face as I watched him set out with a few of his other siblings who had come of age. But as soon as he was out of sight.... it hurt so bad that for days, a storm came over the sanctuary we were staying in. I was grieving, I thought I was going to die, and there were moments where I wished I did — but in the end, I had to endure it. I had been given something else I needed to care for, after all._

_My little one’s grandfather had already raised his one hundred children. He’d already spent a very good life with the mate he had chosen, and he was spending another good one looking after his lost grandchildren. But even then.... he willing to have another one hundred with me. So when he finally managed to coax me out of that cave and back into the sun, I was carrying my very first clutch of eggs inside of me._

* * *

Beetle moves along to the sea floor, slow and vigilant as they trace the bedrock with the tip of their spear. Their golden scales manage to reflect what little sunlight filters down into the outskirts. Trailing behind them are Hawk and Ayame, both of them also armed. Wolf keeps as close to them as he can manage without getting in their way.

This isn’t their first time patrolling the outskirts for vermin. But he knows all too well how quickly things can go wrong. Wolf watches as they comb through the outskirts, focused and careful just as he had taught them. Beetle and their siblings have started asking about joining the excursions into the abyss, and whether or not they get to go is entirely dependent on Wolf deeming them ready enough.

So when Beetle bares their teeth and snarls, Wolf forces his instincts to intervene back. They drive their spear into a crack in the bedrock — and an ungodly screech fills the air. Wolf looks on as Beetle struggles with the vermin, wrenching the spear back and forth. The vermin screams and gurgles, misshapen black outside flailing outside of the crack, until Beetle pulls the spear back — and rams it in one last time. 

A ringing silence fills the outskirts. Beetle reaches into the crack with their bare hand, and hauls the vermin out. Like the rest of its kind, the vermin a twisted and ugly thing, but Beetle carries it over to him as if holding the finest of all treasures. Wolf pats the side of their face with a smile.

And then he takes his sword, rests the tip against what looks like the main body, and carefully cuts it open.

He's seen vermin shaped like worms, nasty things lacking eyes, ears, nostrils, gills, or any other sort of orifice save for a gaping maw. He's seen agile predators tear through the water, mouth stretched into a distended grimace as their many eyes rolled about. The more passive ones hid themselves under the sand, blended in with the rock, or camouflaged themselves against the water, waiting for something to wander by. And sometimes, deformed things would simply float up from the darkness, writhing and twitching uselessly as they rose higher and higher towards the sunlight.

Wolf isn't sure what he had been hoping to find as he pries apart the incision and peers inside. But just like the last several he had cut open, the only thing he recognizes is the heart. And that's only because veiny ropes are attached to it like some kind of spiderweb. The rest of its organs are gray, purplish lumps that Wolf can't make heads or tails of. This one doesn't even have an intestinal tract or anything resembling a brain — nothing but amorphous lumps that shine like oil.

Wolf pushes the vermin back to Beetle. They quickly scoop it up and start making their way further into the darkness. Ayame breaks off to accompany them, weapons leveled. Hawk sits next to him. Wolf waits.

He had learned the hard way that disposing of creatures from the abyss is almost as deadly as killing them. Vermin rarely ever die quietly, and they always gravitate towards noise. Even with the Night Eye that all of his children have, there are so many opportunistic predators hiding in the darkness. It's almost enough to take Wolf back to old days, when it seemed that he would never escape the violence.

Finally, Wolf hears the distant clicks and croons of his children. He rises — and stops. Multiple clicking. A chorus of songs. Too much for the two who had gone out to hurl the vermin back into the abyss. Wolf goes still, moving only to curl a hand tight around his sword. 

Cicada had told him about monsters in the abyss that could copy anything it heard to a terrifying degree of accuracy. _Mouths all over its body,_ they had said. _Followed us for such a long time, and we never even noticed because it sounded like one of us. When I finally ran it through, everyone thought I was hurt because it screamed just like me._

Had one really come all the way up here? No matter — he would kill it, just as he and his family had already killed many of its kind. And if it had hurt his children—

Beetle darts back into view. Wolf feels his entire body drop with relief as Ayame emerges from the darkness. He reaches towards them, but no sooner do his hands brush against their faces does another child dart out of the darkness. And then another. And another. And on and on it goes, until Wolf is surrounded by an entire swarm of children, clicking and singing and smiling, and he realizes— they've returned from the abyss. 

His family is _home._

A strong arm hooks around his waist. Wolf quickly finds himself face to face with Genichiro, who noses at his neck with a purr. Wolf knows from the way he holds onto him that he's going to be full with another clutch of eggs before the next sunrise. He leans into his embrace, and allows Genichiro to carry him back home.

The next day, Wolf makes his way to the sand dune. He's weighed down by the three eggs sitting heavy in his body, but he still drags himself all the way to the to the top. The trunk of the pale tree has grown thick enough that he can comfortably lean against it, and the flowers have grown into such a dense canopy it actually provides shade. 

He kneels in front of the weapons driven into the sand. He doesn't count them — he can't bring himself to. Instead, Wolf takes the blade that Genichiro had given him with distant eyes earlier that morning, and places Yuzu alongside their siblings.

Wolf closes his eyes and brings his hands together, and he begins to pray.

* * *

_I had never considered the possibility of having my own children. There was simply no need, not when I already had my little one and the pod. And you have to understand: I didn't even think it possible. Not because I was trying with a mer, but because of me. Producing my own offspring.... it wasn't supposed happen._

_But it did._

_The months passed, and my body, even though it was only an imitation, began to change. I was carrying life inside of me. Seven of them. Seven very small, very bright flames that I fed and protected. Those few months I carried them felt like an eternity, I wanted to meet them so bad. But I waited, and when they finally came out.... they were perfect._

_Yes, they were offsprings of the abyss. It was obvious the moment you laid eyes on them, just like it was for me, but they were still their sire's children. They were ours in all the ways that mattered. They laughed, they sang, they grew. By day, we all swam together, and by night, we hopped from dreams to dreams. My children — they were all so beautiful. My little ones. I love them more than I can possibly put into words._

_And my mate — I loved him too. He gave me the greatest gift that anyone ever could, and he was a good mate too. A fool, perhaps, but a brave and righteous one. I was so happy to have met him, so happy that he was willing to spend the rest of his life with me._

_But that was exactly the problem, you see._

* * *

Wolf never asks about the abyss. He just doesn't. 

Normally, his children are the ones who bring it up, telling him about the monsters and the treasures they've found and how far they got this time. Wolf always listens to them, because if his children need to talk about it, he'll always be there for them. Even if it makes him uneasy in a way he can't describe.

That being said, as his family starts getting deeper and deeper, so deep that the darkness is no longer just an absence of light but something else entirely, Wolf isn't surprised when they start telling him less. 

A part of it is because they just don't have the words. No matter how hard they look or how much Wolf tries to help, there's always something missing that keeps them from conveying what they really saw down there. And there's also the fact that they just don't want to talk about it. And Wolf understands that, of course he does. The pain of reliving it in a place that's supposed to be safe and untouched by it — he isn't going to hurt them like that.

And so: Wolf doesn't ask his children about the abyss. They don't tell him about it. He's just happy to have them home, and they're all happy to be back under the sun.

One day, Cicada follows him onto the shore of the sand dune.

"We wandered into a weird one, this time," they say as Wolf nurses his four babies. "It was.... very simple. Remember when I told you about the — what was it — city? It was like that, but instead of a bunch of buildings, there was just one. A big one. Real fancy, too. It had a lot of these — tower things, sort of twirly. And on the outside, there were a lot of decorations."

"Sounds like a palace," Wolf remarks. "Or maybe a temple?"

Cicada frowns. "What's the difference again?"

"A palace houses a person of great importance, while a temple is a place of worship."

Wolf had done his best to explain what his life on land had been like since the moment Cicada could ask questions about it. But as far as he can tell, it's been a hit-and-miss endeavor at best. His children still don't understand the concept of snow or even seasons, let alone something like the emperor. And everything he's tried to tell them about gods and demons are completely confounded by the abyss.

So when Cicada gives him a doubtful look, Wolf is resigned more than anything else.

"I guess? It didn't seem like a place to live in," they say. "Though something did like it enough to make it. We swam around it for a bit until we found these gates, and...."

Cicada trails off. Wolf knows that look on their face. He waits as they search for the words.

"It was.... it was confusing, but not impossible. Past the gate was this big room, and leading from the room were these hallways. We all split up and went down as many as we could, but....

"The building is big, right? Really big. This thing was _huge_. But the amount of ground we all covered — it couldn't have been that big. Whatever was going on, it was far bigger on the inside than it was the outside. Hell, if it weren't for the Pale Lady, we'd still be in there. Starving to death or something."

The way they say that, all flippant and carefree — it makes Wolf sigh. All of his children came back this time, and only superficial wounds between them. Imagining it otherwise — he can't.

Cicada flashes him an apologetic look. The baby at his right breast detaches with a yawn, while the other happily suckles away. Wolf sets them down on the sand as Cicada hands him another. The last one, caught behind Cicada's arms, makes a sad noise caught between a screech and a whimper. Cicada clicks at them and pinches their nose.

"How old are they?" Cicada asks. "They don't talk a lot. Haven't you been speaking to them?"

"They were born right after you all left," Wolf replies. "Though now that you're back home, you can help them practice."

Cicada scoffs. "Hear that?" They say to the one in their arms. The baby blinks up at them, still rubbing at their nose. "I'm gonna have to teach you how to talk, because Daddy's too lazy."

Wolf levels a look at them. The baby tilts their little head. Cicada laughs and ruffles their curly hair.

Silence falls. Cicada looks off into the distance as Wolf turns his attention back to his babies. He knows they want to tell him something, but he also knows better than to rush them. He strokes his babies' little cheeks as he waits, and eventually, the one on his left breast detaches. They're already snoring before he's even set them down. The last one is squeaking and frantically trying to pull themselves out of Cicada's hold, reaching towards him.

As they settle against his chest, Cicada lets out a sigh. Wolf looks up at them.

"The Pale Lady guided us, yeah," they say. "But she didn't take us out of there. Not at first. We followed her directions deeper and deeper into the building. I don't know how long we were in there, but.... I think we found its heart."

That look again. The one of distant speculation, where the problem isn't the lack of words. "It.... showed us something?" Cicada says slowly. "Spoke to us? I don't — it did something. And whatever it did, we— well, I can still remember it. I could show it to you, but I don't know what the best way is. Maybe I could tell you or draw it out. It's right there, I can — I can _see_ it, but..."

Wolf rests his hand over their's. "You don't have to," he says.

Cicada blinks. Laughs. "Yeah. I don't know. Whatever it is, the Pale Lady told us to keep it close. She said that we're going to need it if we're going to make it past the nightmares."

* * *

_My mate was growing old. I used to call him a fool, but in reality, I was the fool. A blind one, too. The years passed as my children grew and I continued to bear more of them. The grandchildren still came looking for their grandfather, and I was always happy to welcome them, but this was my pod now, you understand. My family._

_But even then... I never noticed a thing. It just never occurred to me. It wasn't until I finally bore our 100th child and our eldest were getting ready to set out on their own, that my mate finally sat down with me and told me that the end was coming from him. That he didn’t think he had the strength to make it to the next sanctuary. He told me that he loved me and our children, and that no matter where I came from or what anyone said, I was still the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He hoped desperately that he made me happy._

_He did. Of course he did, the fact he even worried about it to begin with was hurtful. But he.... he also said that he wasn’t afraid of what was going to happen afterwards, anymore. And that he didn’t know when I would finally join him, but he was certain our paths would cross again._

_And that... that was the moment when I finally realized: he was going to die._

_I was so scared. I was terrified. Death was the one thing that I had never gotten used to. The permanence of it — the unfairness — the sheer loss was too much for me to comprehend. When I had to let my little one go, I thought that would kill me. So how could I lose my mate?_

_I couldn't. The thought alone was too much. And so I decided — I wouldn’t. I’d do whatever it took to keep death away. And so I.... I gave him a part of me. The same thing that all of our children had, that little piece that made them offsprings of the abyss._

_It didn’t work._

* * *

The Pale Tree has grown big enough that its shade reaches the shore now. 

The trunk is as wide as his shoulders, and nearly twice as tall as he is. Numerous branches arc towards the sky, and thick roots dig deep into the sand. The crown of the tree is absolutely bursting with blossoms, so densely gathered that not a single ray of sunlight breaks through. Best of all, the tree is angled against the sun in such a way that Wolf can follow its shade across the sand throughout the day.

Its beauty is an unmistakable and eerie thing. Marring it are the graves of his children scattered in front of its roots. There are too many blades, too many names he has to say in prayer. Wolf never counts them — just looking at them makes his heart break all over again.

One day, Wolf is dozing beneath its shade. There are no babies to curl around — the five of them had been weaned a while ago, though that doesn’t stop them (and a few others) from coming up so they can nap against him. The rest are either playing nearby or hunting at the outskirts. Everyone else is in the abyss.

It’s a quiet day. A good day. The sand is soft beneath him, and shade of the tree settles over him and his little ones watchfully. The ocean waves are a constant, lulling noise at the back of his mind, and despite the shade, the sunlight beats down strong enough to keep him warm. Wolf is relaxed, because his children are defending their home and he has his little ones curled up against him and everyone will be home soon,

It's very peaceful.

And then there’s movement by the shore, and Wolf wakes up, and he sees Genichiro.

He smiles. Genichiro hauls himself onto land, towards him. As soon as their eyes meet, Wolf sits up, causing the children dozing on him to grumble and rub at their eyes. He reaches out towards Genichiro, because if he’s here, then so is the rest of his family. It’s good to see him. It’s good to know they’re home. 

Genichiro collapses onto the sand, and doesn't get back up. 

The world pauses. Holds its breath. Wolf bolts to his side, searching for blood or any wound that needs attention. He finds none of that, so he gets to work on turning Genichiro over. He’s big and heavy enough that it takes a truly absurd amount of effort for Wolf to do so on his own, but he does. He has to. He looks down, and again finds nothing. 

Nothing, except for a strange discoloration at the center of his chest, black and all jagged like a bite mark. 

Wolf blinks at it. Genichiro groans. He doesn’t know what to make of this, but surely his children will. Wolf looks towards the ocean, and waits. And waits.

And waits.

* * *

_It destroyed him._

_I— he— my mate became something. I don’t know what, but— they had to kill him. The other mers at the sanctuary, they had to carve him up and hurl him into the abyss like he was nothing more than a vermin or monster. But it had to be done. Because if they didn't do it, then I would have. What he became, it was all my fault._

_My mate — he was well-respected and highly regarded among the mers. They told stories about him, the kind like your heroes and demigods. The mers respected him, and he loved me. And so they accepted me and my children, no matter their misgivings._

_But after they saw what I had done to him... they were furious._

_They swarmed me. Tore me to shreds. Pulled me apart with their own hands, until I was so small that the ocean could no longer keep me tethered. I floated up and up, and I saw...._

_My babies._

_What happened to me, I deserved it. But they — they didn't do anything wrong. None of this was their fault. They were only children. But the mers wanted blood, and I was too far away and too small to intervene. I didn't know what to do. It happened so fast that I could only watch as they tore my children apart. All one hundred of them._

_They were mine. They came from me, and they looked like me. But they were still their sire's children. So no matter how small they got, or how many pieces of them floated up to the surface... they didn't join me._

_They were dead._

_And I was furious._

_The rage — it was all I had left . As I floated further and further away, it consumed me until all I could think of was how to make them hurt. And the moment those pieces of me came to a stop, so far beyond the sky that there was nothing but void and stars all around me, the whole ocean down below.... I did just that. I cursed them all._

* * *

One of the little ones tell him, “Father says they messed up down there.”

Wolf can’t find his children. The ones who went down into the abyss, he can’t find any of them. They aren’t in the caves, or the coral reefs, or the kelp forests, or the canyons, or the outskirts. They aren’t here. They aren’t anywhere he can reach them.

The pieces of the story come out slowly. All broken up. They had made a mistake down there. The nightmare woke up. It was hungry, and it wouldn’t let them leave. Only their father could.

“Because the Pale Lady said so,” they say, scrunching their faces as they do their best to translate.

Of course she did. _Of course she did_. And she couldn’t even do it right, couldn’t even give him someone to scream at and blame, because Genichiro is _dying_. He’s sick.

That black discoloration on his chest doesn’t smell or feel strange. It looks almost as if he’d simply been born like that, the way it sits in his skin. But it _grows_. Day by day, it creeps across his flesh and eventually his scales. A fever sets in, hot enough the heat radiates in waves. Wolf is eventually forced to drag Genichiro back onto the sand dune, he's so weak he can’t even keep himself aloft in the water anymore. Wolf lays him at the base of the dune, where there’s always shade, and curls up at his side.

The discoloration continues to grow. Delirium sets in when it reaches his shoulders. Genichiro mutters and chatters under his breath, eyes rolling and spinning. Whatever he says, it scares their children enough to leave them pale and trembling, so Wolf sends them away.

When it reaches his fingers, Genichiro begins to claw at himself. His arms, his chest, his scales, his neck. The blackened skin comes away easily, like he’s peeling off rotten flesh, and the blood that comes out is so, so dark. Wolf is forced to wrestle with him to get him to stop, before he claws himself all the way down to the bone. When he finally passes out from exhaustion, Wolf cleans himself in the ocean. It takes furious, insistent scrubbing for the blood to come off, and even then, it settles at the bottom like oil.

When the discoloration starts to creeps up his face, the cough sets in. Genichiro spits out these strange lumps, all waxy and black. He coughs and coughs and coughs until he's vomiting it, black muck oozing out through his gills, and his face turns so red that Wolf wonders if he's going to die. He clutches at his hands like his children do whenever they have a bad dream, not even daring to breathe as Genichiro writhes. And then he collapses, wheezing and gurgling through his gills. Wolf spends many sleepless nights at his side, because he knows that if he falls asleep, Genichiro will be dead when he wakes up.

Lucidity is rare. They become less and less frequent as Genichiro gets worse. But one morning, when a ray of the rising sun strikes his face, Genichiro stirs and blinks at him. Wolf blinks back. He sees him, Wolf can see it in the way his pupils focus. For a moment, Genichiro is able to hold his gaze—

—and then his eyes roll and he slumps in the sand. Wolf feels for his breath — still alive, but only barely. His breathing is so faint he wonders if he's imagining it.

He can’t take it anymore.

Wolf stumbles away from him, as far as he can get, and it still isn't far enough. So he turns and begins to scale the sand dune, all the way to the top. And it still isn't far enough, but there's nowhere else for him to go. Wolf kneels in front of the tree, like he's about to pray. Except this time, he finally looks at the graves. 

_There’s so many_. How can there be so many? How can they all be dead? His children, his babies. And the ones in the abyss — are they still alive? Are they okay? Are they dead, too? If they are, what is he supposed to do? How can he honor them when he doesn’t even have their weapons to make their graves with? How can he say all of their names?

Wolf curls up at the base of the tree, and cries.

* * *

_As I raged beneath the sun, the rest of me grieved._

_I was still down there at the bottom of the abyss. I had never left — only a tiny, tiny part of me did. But that tiny part was still me, and so I knew the sun felt like, how to love and give love, what it meant to be alive. I still felt the pain of losing absolutely everything, and so, for the first time in a long, long time.... I began to wake up._

_My kind — we don't die. Not really. We... we're just too big for that. We don't burn hot enough. And what that meant was, no matter how badly I wished for it, my family was gone. All I could do was seek out revenge, and maybe dream up a lie convincing enough to get lost in — or wake up._

_I didn't have a choice in it._

_It took seeing the sun for the first time to get me to even stir. But my grief — the nightmares that plagued me chased me towards consciousness. And the things that came out of them... had they managed to reach the surface, not even the sun could have calmed them. The light would have incensed them, and cast shadows all across your world._

_I say all of this now in retrospect. Because at the time, I was in a constant state of convulsions, trying to decide whether I should continue dreaming or to wake up. The struggle was so fierce that I think I would have gone mad before either side won. And the parts of me that weren't struggling were stuck in grief, crying and crying._

_I was so lost._

_But then.... I heard something._

_It was so faint. But so familiar. I could hear it past my dreams and my nightmares, seeping through the cracks and trickling down like rain. It took me far too long to finally figure out what it was: a lullaby. Our lullaby. The one that my mate and I used to sing to our children._

_It wasn't a dream — I'd know if it was. It was coming from outside of me, somewhere in the abyss. Here, at the very bottom of the abyss. Someone was singing my family's lullaby at the bottom of the abyss, so close to me that I could feel them, and I pushed through all of my dreams and my nightmares and I reached out and..._

_My little one. Shining so bright in the darkness. He was so small that I nearly crushed him right then and there. But it was him, it was really him, all the way down here with me._

_And he wasn't alone._

_My children with him. All one hundred of them, my babies. I wasn't alone anymore. I...._

* * *

Wolf has a dream.

He's at the beach, the one that reeks of ozone and the shore is made of mud and the sun is nothing more than a ring of light on the horizon. He's had this dream many times before, but it's the first time that he's alone. Completely, utterly alone at the loneliest shore in the world. 

But he's always been here for a reason.

There's movement in the water. Wolf looks down.

" _Dad,_ " Cicada gasps as they break through. "Dad. It's you, isn't it? It's really you?"

Wolf falls to his knees. He reaches out. Cicada blinks at him with the desperation of a man on the verge of starving to death, and buries themselves in his chest. Wolf holds them as close and as tight as he possibly can. He never wants to let go.

Cicada is the one who pulls away.

"Dad. Dad, I'm sorry," they say. "I love you, but I don't have a lot of time. I need your help. I know how to get us out of here, but I can't do it alone."

Of course. _Of course_. Anything for them. Anything to bring his family home. Seeing Cicada, even only in a dream, is still more than Wolf could've possibly hoped for. He can feel the parts of him that had died coming back to life.

"Remember what I told you — a long time ago — the thing we needed to get past the nightmares? I figured it out. It took me so long, but I've finally got it now. I know how to make it so that you can understand it too. Words. You can write it down, you can see it. You can do things with it."

Cicada takes his hands. Their eyes are so bright and so alive. Wolf sees no fear or reluctance or horror. Just a terrible excitement and determination.

They squeeze his hand. His fingers close around something. Wolf looks down, and sees a black knife.

"You have the steadiest hands," Cicada says.

* * *

_I wish I can say that I had been too blinded by rage to consider the consequences of my curse. But the truth is, I knew exactly what I was doing._

_I called up the monsters. All of them, from the little ones that can be crushed in the palm of a hand, to the leviathans so big they carved out canyons in their wake. I had them scour the ocean in a vast horde, until all the remaining mers fled to the sanctuaries. And those, I cursed with a rot. Their bodies decaying as their minds stagnated, nightmares dogging their sleep. The kind of agony that ended with many throwing themselves to the monsters._

_I was careful. I was thorough. I was determined. And I was focused enough that I spared my little one. The monsters and vermin ignored him, and the rot avoided him entirely. I still loved him, even though we hadn't seen each other since he had left._

_My little one had heard about what happened to us. He'd been making his way to our graves, because he'd needed to see it for himself. But after I enacted my curse, he came because he had to find some way to get me to stop. But by the time he finally made it.... he was the only one left._

_He told me that he had found where they had discarded my children’s' bodies. Pieces of them everywhere, hands and fingers and scales and eyes caught on coral branches and beneath the sand. By then, they should've been carried away by scavengers, rotted away into nothing. But instead.... they took root._

_They were still alive._

_They were my mate's children in all the ways that mattered, but they were still mine. They were offsprings of the abyss, so instead of dying, they held on and refused to let go. They took root and told the scavengers to stay away, and they even tried to protect the mers from my vengeance. But all they could do was watch. And wait._

_The whole time, they could hear me screaming beneath the sun and crying in the abyss as I began to wake up. None of them had any idea how to leave the ocean, but they knew how to navigate darkness and keep away monsters. So they met my little one for the very first time, and they grieved together. And then they asked him to bring them back to me. To journey into the abyss._

_He said yes._

* * *

Throughout it all, Cicada doesn't make a single noise. 

They draw shapes into the mud and tell him what it is. Wolf dutifully carves it into their skin, hands steady as the blade glides over skin. He forces himself to focus on the lines instead of the shape itself, because when he looks at the shape for too long, his head aches and he can hear something sticky dripping at the back of his mind. And he knows, the way an animal knows that safety can be found in sunlight, that he isn't supposed to know these words. No mortal was ever meant to. But he can't stop now. He wants his family back. He needs them. That alone is enough to push him past the pain and fear and the curious sensation of something unraveling.

Carving it into skin is the easy part. The tail is where Wolf begins to hesitate, because the scales have to go away to get to the flesh underneath. Pulling them out is hard, but Wolf finds a way around by scraping them off with the knife. And it must hurt, it has to. There's so much blood. 

Wolf doesn't know how long he's there. It doesn't matter. Because in the end, the words covers Cicada's entire body, from the minute details on their face to the elaborate lines tracing down the sides of their tail. They push themselves up as if they hadn't just been disfigured by their own father. They drag themselves back into the water

"Thank you, Dad," they say.

And then they're gone.

* * *

_My little one gathered up my children as best he could. He followed their directions out to the most barren part of the ocean, so far from everything else that even monsters skirted around it, because there was nothing to feed on. And it was there that he began to descend._

_Once you got past the point where not even sunlight could penetrate the depths, I no longer had any control over the monsters. And once you got even further, it wasn't really water that you were moving through anymore. It was just... darkness. It's hard describe. You'd have to feel it for yourself to understand._

_My children guided my little one as best they could. They managed to repel just about every monster that crossed paths with them, but to gaze upon a creature of the deep is still incredibly harrowing. Gaze upon too many, and your mind begins to fray._

_And eventually, they weren't confronting monsters anymore. Instead, the monsters started getting so big that... you just wandered into their dreams. And while those dreams weren’t inherently dangerous, you still needed to be careful while crossing them. The last thing you wanted was to wake the monsters up and make them aware of you._

_And even lower than that... the nightmares began._

_I was bigger than any of those dreams and nightmares. None of them bothered me, but my children and my little one — they should’ve died on that journey a hundred times over. They should’ve spent a hundred lifetimes going mad from everything they saw, my little one especially. The abyss is so hostile towards bright, mortal flames like him. The darkness alone would've been enough to annihilate him, but my children.... they wouldn't let him go. They made him keep going._

_The whole time, they could hear me crying. My sobs echoing up as I tore myself apart. They used it to navigate the darkness, the dreams, the nightmares. And once they got close enough, my little one could hear it too. By then, my grief was no longer just noises coming up through the darkness — you could feel it._

_My children could endure my tears. But my little one.... eventually, they had to shield him themselves. They covered his eyes and ears, fed him little dreams so that he couldn't see or hear what was going on around him. They carried him all the way through the nightmares, until they finally reached the bottom of the abyss._

_And... well, you know what happens next._

* * *

When Wolf wakes up, it's raining. 

It's only sprinkling right now, but the sky is heavy with dark clouds. Fat droplets patter against the flowers overhead, and the wind blows hard and cold as he steps out from underneath the tree. Remnants of his dream cling to him, foggy afterimages that leave him sluggish and off-balance. How long has he been asleep? He still feels so exhausted. Wolf makes his way to the edge of the peak — and stops.

His children are down there. The little ones are gathered around their father, while the older ones are — climbing the sand dune? A few have managed to reach halfway up the slope, through what Wolf can only assume to be a combination of scrabbling hands and thrashing their tails like a snake. He watches, mystified, as one — Ajisai — pounces on something. They turn and throw it down to the base of the sand dune, where a little one grabs it and brings it over to their father. 

Something white drifts across his vision. A flower.

Wolf snatches it out of the air, and hurries down to meet his children. 

“Dad,” Ajisai gasps, as he comes to a stop in front of him. “Dad, I—“ Their eyes snap to the flower in his hands. They reach for it, and he allows them to take it. As they throw it down to shore, where the little ones are waiting, Wolf asks, “What’s going on? What are you doing?”

"The Pale Lady — she says that she knows how to help Father. And that we — we've gotta get the flowers for him. She says that he has to eat it, and we've been trying, but he won't open his mouth and he’s— he—“

Ajisai trails off with the most helpless look. Wolf rests a hand along the side of their face, lets them lean into it for a moment. Then he turns and makes the rest of his way back down to shore.

Somehow, Genichiro is still alive. It's a terrible thing to behold: pale as sun-bleached bones, dark eyes sunken into their sockets. That black substance oozing out of his mouth and gills has dripped all over him, pooling in the sand in shiny rivulets slowly making their way to the ocean.

He's so cold when Wolf rests his hand on his shoulder. So unresponsive, so stiff. But he can just barely make out movement beneath Genichiro's eyelids, and that's all Wolf needs. 

"Daddy, he won't eat it," one of the little ones cry, holding up a handful of flowers. They're all slightly crumpled, a number of petals already stained black. Wolf gently cards his hand through their hair as he takes the flowers.

"I need you to do something for me," he says. "All of you. It's very important. I need you to go find me a shell. Flat and big, like the kind that clams and oysters have. Can you do that?"

Several little heads nod frantically. Wolf watches as all of his children hurry into the ocean.

He heads back up the sand dune. Rainwater is streaming down the smooth trunk of the tree, gathering in natural bowls formed by the roots. Several flowers come free in the wind, but it doesn't stop him from reaching up and plucking an entire armful. The sky keeps getting darker, and the flowers gleam bright enough that it almost hurts his eyes. When Wolf returns to the shore, some of his children have already returned. 

He uses the hilt of a knife to grind the flowers down into small pieces, then adds rainwater to thin it out into a watery mixture. Genichiro's mouth is slightly ajar when he approaches, but he groans and closes it when Wolf tries to get him to drink. In the end, he's forced to have one of their children tip the medicine into Genichiro's mouth, as he presses his fingers into the junctures of his jaw to keep it open. 

Genichiro chokes as it dribbles in. He launches into a coughing fit hard enough to buck off their child. The medicine spills across the sand, washed away by rain. Wolf silently picks up the shell and makes it again. 

The second time, Wolf holds him down enough to get most of the medicine in. He sees the way his throat bobs as he swallows, and holds tight as a shudder passes through his whole body. When Genichiro’s abdomen twitches, as if trying to summon up the energy to throw up, Wolf finds himself holding his mouth shut. 

The medicine goes down easier, after that. Genichiro still struggles, but he's so weak it doesn't matter. The rain gets worse and worse until thunder is rolling overhead, but it stays just shy of a storm. The blackness still oozes out of his gills, but not nearly as much as before. When Wolf hovers a hand over his lips, he can actually feel him breathing. 

Wolf isn't entirely sure how long the rain lasts. Long enough that he doesn't need to worry about water, at the very least. Something about it keeps the vermin away too, sends them scampering back into the depths before they even reach sand. "Practically spinning around and around in the water to get away," his children tell him with small laughs.

They come by regularly. Either to bring him food, or to just offer their help. They make medicine with him, curl up against their father to keep him warm, insist that he go to sleep while they keep watch. His children are scared, he can see it in their eyes. But they try to be strong, for Wolf and the rest of their siblings, and so Wolf tries to be strong for them too.

None of them relaxes. Not until Genichiro opens his eyes one day, and looks at them. He _smiles_. Of course, he passes out an instant later, wheezing, but Wolf is so relieved it doesn't matter. He's going to be okay. Genichiro is going to live. Everything is going to be alright. 

* * *

_I sank back into slumber. And as I did, I gave them all happy dreams. Gentle and sweet, full of clear waters and brilliant reefs and a sun that never set. With me, they would never want for anything, and nothing would hurt them ever again. Paradise for eternity._

_It was more than I could ask for. It was good enough for my children. But my little one...._

_We were all that he had left. His kind was gone — I had killed them all. I made sure of it. There was nothing left for him on the surface, so he wanted to spend the rest of his life down in the abyss. He wanted to die with us._

_I wanted him to, as well._

_But my children thought different._

_They told me he didn't belong in the abyss, much less at the bottom. They said that he needed to live under the sun in the ocean that had been his home. He deserved a family. He deserved a mate and children. I could've given him a dream with all of that, but they said it wouldn't be enough. Feeding him a lie would only be cruel._

_They said that my little one needed to leave._

_And.... well, they were right._

_Of course, I wasn't going to send him back up to an empty ocean. The part of me that was still under the sun — I saw where the ocean ended, and I saw the beings who lived there. Like us, they could dream too. Yes, they were undeniably different from the mers, but they were still just similar enough that something could be done. And so I gave my little one a gift, and bubbled him up in a dream._

_And then we sent him back home._

* * *

Finally, the rain abates.

The clouds don't clear until well into the night. Wolf jerks awake when Genichiro suddenly coughs, instinctual panic rattling through him. Genichiro has been coughing more and more these days, all loose and wet like something heavy is caught in his chest. But he’s also more lucid, interacting with his family in the few moments he's awake, and the black ooze isn't coming out of him anymore. He's even able to keep down more food, instead of refusing to swallow at all like before. 

Wolf checks over him briefly, hands skating over his skin. Genichiro grumbles, but quiets down instantly when Wolf gently presses their lips together. His mouth moves against him, searching. Wolf moves away before Genichiro decides to get any ideas when he's in such a state.

It's late. Wolf is exhausted, but not the kind needed for sleep. He casts his gaze towards the sky, to the moon hidden behind the tree. Must be a full moon — the tree glows bright as if it were daylight.

How long has it been since he's last prayed?

Wolf makes his way up the sand dune.

There's plenty of water in the roots. Wolf makes a note of it as he kneels — at least he won't have to worry about where Genichiro is going to get his medicine for some time, though he's probably strong enough to just eat the flowers at this point. Wolf glances at the graves of his children, then turns his head towards the moonlit flowers above.

He closes his eyes. 

Wolf always prays for the same thing. That his children are at peace, that they're happy, that they know how much he loves them and how much he misses them. He repeats their names like a mantra, because he refuses to forget them. He prays to the spirit of the tree, because it's the closest thing to divinity he has out here. 

This time, though. This time, he prays for his children to come back soon. He's always prayed for their safe journey and return, but now, he just wants them back in his arms as quickly as possible. Whatever Cicada is planning, he prays they succeed.

Wolf can only be up there for so long. He can only say his prayers and his children's names for so long, until the words all blend together into a constant buzz. It's enough to drive him mad, so Wolf opens his eyes. The rainwater soaked into the earth is heavy on his nose, the moon hangs so big and full in the sky, and the sand is gray in the moonlight. Wolf feels like he's very far away, on a distant shore. 

He turns to make his way back down. 

Genichiro isn't alone.

A number of figures are gathered around him. Wolf's vision isn't what it used to be, so he can't quite make them out. Still, he sighs as he makes his way down, because his children should be asleep. What are they doing up so—

Genichiro doubles over, gagging. His choking coughs are loud and wretched enough to make Wolf's hair stand on end. He hurries to his side as Genichiro drags in air, heaving. The coughs are so wet that he's drooling, black flecks all across his chin and the sand. 

And then Genichiro takes a deep, deep breath, and something dark crawls out of his mouth.

It flops onto the sand. Its surface gleams in the moonlight, a rainbow sheen like oil. Wolf grows cold when a single eye blinks open. He thinks he might even see a tentacle or a hand reaching out, but he can't be sure. A blade spears it clean through an instant later, and the eye rolls as it dies quietly. 

Genichiro takes in another breath — clean and dry. Wolf grabs him by the shoulders, and Genichiro stares at him. The Night Eye adjusts slowly, but he can see him smiling. For a moment, it's just the two of them in the whole world, leaning into each other’s touch. And then there's a little singing trill, so familiar that Wolf's _soul_ hurts.

"Cicada?"

The exhausted faces of his children blink at him. Wolf falls to his knees as his world becomes whole again. 

* * *

_Genichiro woke up with the sun on his face. Alone and so very tired, but he was alive and that meant he had to at least try. We watched from afar as he set out across the ocean.... and found you._

_He fell in love that very night you saved him, you know. And he was so hopeless about it too, working up the courage to approach you and start the courting process. He used to spend hours looking for the best fish and the biggest pearls — even scrapped with a vermin bare-handed just to prove to you that he was as capable of protecting you as you had protected him. You were the first person that he had ever wanted, let alone so badly. You became the center of his whole world._

_He hopes everyday that he's been good to you. That he's made you happy. Absolutely everything he's ever done since he brought you to this sanctuary has been for the sake of you and your children. He loves you all more than I can say with your words._

_My little one got his happy ending. And we did too. The story is supposed to end there, isn't it?_

_...._

_...._

_I'm not the only thing that lives at the bottom of the abyss._

_It may have an end, but it stretches on endlessly. And scattered throughout its plains are the countless dreams and nightmares of other..... existences. All of them as big and as old as me. We were all supposed to be asleep, but — when I had been waking up, grieving and crying loud enough that my children could hear me all the way from the surface.... those other existences could hear me too._

_And now they're all waking up._

_They're not — they aren't evil. Not in the way that you would define evil. They just are, like me. But I've already told you what would happen if only I had woken up. All of them reaching the surface — that's not a nightmare anymore, it's...._

_You'd wish that you could still die._

_I can't let that happen to your world. I — I need to fix it while I still can. My children and I, we spoke at length about it. And we have a plan. A way to put those existences at the bottom of the abyss back to sleep, maybe even the monsters and vermin too._

_But to do that.... we need your help._

_My children have to go back under the sun. But the way things are right now, I can't send them up anymore. It's too dangerous — the abyss is agitated in a way I've never seen it before. I could only bring myself to send up my eldest, because they know best how to handle the darkness and the monsters, and because we had no other way to reach you. But the rest — you have to come get them. You're just small enough to escape notice, and my eldest can guide and protect you during._

_I — what I'm asking of you is — it's going to cost you greatly. But it must be done. There's no one else but your family who can do this. No one else in the entire world who can brave the abyss, and bring my children back to the sun. Because if you don't....._

_We've already spoken Genichiro about it. Your children — you should speak to them them soon. Once you think they're ready. But until then.... please take my child. Plant them as close to the sun as you can. They need sunlight to take root and start growing. Once they've grown big enough, we'll be able to see them in our dreams again. From the very bottom of the abyss to the space beyond the sky._

* * *

Cicada brings him seven knives.

It's been a long time since Wolf has had that out-of-body experience, where the whole world falls away and the days pass by strangely. He isn't quite sure how he manages to gather all of his children in his arms and carry them up the sand dune, but he does and he prays for them all. He's so tired his eyes don't even sting with tears. He stays up there, knelt before the tree, until something finally breaks through the haze: Cicada, calling for him.

"I brought you breakfast," they say, holding up a big silvery fish. Wolf isn't hungry, but he still kneels down next to them. He watches in silence as they carve it up, knife going in and out of the fish with the sort of grace and confidence that Wolf has only ever seen among fellow shinobi. He wonders if it's because he had taught Cicada well, or if it’s something they had to learn on their own.

"Don't tell him I said this," Cicada hums with a cheeky gin. "But Father's being a real pain. He won't stay still no matter what we try or do. And he's even _mad_ about it, says we're all treating him like a minnow. After what he's been through, he's lucky we don't just tie him to a boulder. That old man needs to rest."

Wolf gives them a look. Cicada raises their hands defensively. "What? It's true! He's getting old, and so are you. I'm gonna have to talk to him soon about you two having more kids, because he's already talking about trying for twins or something. It's not safe for you anymore, is it? He just doesn't understand that you're not mer."

The thought of it certainly isn't appealing. Wolf settles a hand over his abdomen, all loose skin and stretch marks now. More eggs mean more babies to nurse and fret over, more children to teach how to hunt and send to their deaths in the abyss. He's so tired of it all. He doesn't how much longer he can keep doing this. 

Cicada pushes the deboned, descaled, and gutted fish towards him. Wolf pokes at it with a knife. They fall silent as he eats, staring off into space. Wolf finds himself staring at them.

The scars.

Those vicious, brutal scars. The fact that Wolf had made them all with his own hands makes it even worse. None of it seems to bother Cicada, no matter what the scars pass over or how deeply they're carved into their skin. Wolf wonders if they're proud of it, if they see them as trophies. If they had carved up their siblings too.

All the ones who came back from the abyss — they’re covered head to tail in their own set of scars. Elaborate lines and shapes that make it hard for Wolf to look at them, a curious headache at the front of his head. From a distance, it all looks the same, but up close, there are variations from child to child. He wonders why they all have it, who gave it to them, what it means, what—

"It helped us leave the nightmare," Cicada says suddenly. "Without it, we'd still be stuck in there. I came to you because you had the steadiest hand, but the rest of us.... they weren't as lucky. They didn’t know how to dream-walk like I did, so they didn’t have you to help them."

Their voice is so airy, so casual, like they're telling him about what their youngest sibling did this time to hurt themselves, or how the whales have come to visit again. Wolf tells himself it's because their sense of normal has been warped by the abyss, so carving shapes into their skin for the name of survival won't be the worst thing they've done down there. But—

"I mean, even with these, it was still hard getting out of the nightmare," they continue. "That one was worse than all the rest we had gone through, because the, uh.... you would've called it a god? It didn't want us to leave. I think it was lonely.

"But we had to, of course. Most of us did, no matter how much it cried or begged. It pulled out all sorts of nasty tricks to get us to stay, even tried to disguise itself as you at one point. I won’t lie, that almost got me. I really thought it had somehow kidnapped you and brought you all the way down there. And — well, I won’t bore you with the details. The important thing is that we got out. And even more important was what was beyond it.”

Cicada beams at him. “We made it,” they say. “We’ve reached the bottom of the abyss."

The breath freezes in his lungs.

It comes out, slow and painful, as Cicada falls silent. The look on their face is so distant, like they're somewhere else entirely. Wolf wonders what they see, where they are, if they're on a gray shore that smells like ozone under a distant sun. 

Cicada looks at him as if trying to figure out how to lie.

"We got what we needed," they say. "The rest of the children, all ninety-nine of them. Midori is keeping an eye on them right now. It's not gonna be easy, planting them across the ocean. The next generation is probably going to have to finish the job. But for us.... it's over. The abyss — no more of that. We're done. For good."

Wolf should be happy. He should be in tears with relief upon hearing that, he won't be sending his own children to their deaths anymore. But Cicada.... they're already planning for another journey. The abyss is over, and they’re talking about setting out again.

"Yeah, it’s going to take a long time. We’re planning on doing it as early as possible, because the ocean is just so damn big and we have a time limit. But no matter what, I promise I'll come home. Can't speak for the rest of us, but you’ll see me again. I'll never leave you."

Wolf manages a smile. A little one. Cicada laughs at the sight of it, bright and beatific, and rests their head on crossed arms. Wolf reaches out to run his hand through their hair.

He stops.

For the first time in a long time, Cicada look uncertain. He opens his mouth to ask them what's wrong, when they look at him and say, "Midori, Snake, Ume, and I plan to head to your homeland. Do you want to come with us?"


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wolf goes home.

The sun has just risen when they finally arrive. 

Wolf can see the trees beyond the shore, so vivid and green his eyes ache. His stomach clenches at the sight of it — out of fear or joy or something else altogether, he can't say. It must be early enough that the villagers are only just starting to wake up, because there are no fishermen to watch out for. Wolf keeps quiet as Cicada leads them all directly to shore — and sees something that makes his heart stop.

He must've made a noise or done something, because all of his children turn to him, stunned. He can't explain — just points further down the shore, where he knows there's a small cave hidden behind some bushes. The looks his children give him are strange, but they don't question him. They bring him over, and watch as he stumbles across the sand.

There's no mistaking it. There is absolutely no mistaking it. It's the same cave, the very same one he had stayed in when he was still a shinobi, when Genichiro had courted him. There's still that bit of rock sticking out from the entrance he always had to be mindful of, those bushes with dark berries he used to snack on, and the birds — when was the last time he heard birds singing? High and beautiful, from tree to tree?

He knows it isn't a coincidence that his children chose to come here. He knows better than to expect an answer that he can understand. So Wolf puts the birds out of his mind and pushes past the bushes and steps around the rock, and enters the cave.

It's empty.

Genichiro had given him enough treasures to occupy its own corner. That chest full of gold, the knife, the small mountain of pearls. None of them are here. Nothing but sand and rock and orange slants of morning sunlight across the wall. 

Most likely, a villager or a bandit had made off with everything. But it doesn't stop Wolf from wondering if his father ever came looking for him. If he ever found closure, if he's still out there looking, if he ever cared enough to begin with. Wolf stands in the cave, watching as sunlight creeps closer and closer to the floor. When he sees the outline of his shadow, he turns and leaves.

There's nothing for him here.

As he heads back down the beach, he hears a laugh. A thump. A grunt. He frowns, looking up. And then he smiles, a tiny laugh puffing past his lips.

His children, crawling onto shore. Stumbling around the sand on very human legs, as clumsy as if they were just born.

* * *

Once he's certain his children won't try and do something like test the integrity of their ankles, Wolf makes his way towards the main road.

They're going to need clothes for the journey. Food, of course, and weapons. The black blades aren't going to be nearly as useful on land as they are in the water. Wolf had thought it over during the trip back to Japan, everything they'll need to carry out the journey. He's no stranger to managing things on his own, or when he's responsible for someone. 

He still hesitates when the road comes into view.

If memory serves him right, the closest village is only a couple minutes south. The very same one he had rescued Genichiro from. Wolf peaks down the road both ways, just in case there's an errant traveler to watch out for — then frowns.

Weapons litter the road. Rusted katanas, broken spear shafts, rotten scraps of armor. Wolf knows what to expect when an invading army passes through enemy territory, but something sets his teeth on edge. It takes him far too long to figure out what.

There are skeletons. Not bodies — _skeletons_. Bones bleached white, dust built up around them as if they had been there for years.

Wolf doesn't know exactly how long he's been gone. All he can say for sure is that it's been at least twenty years. By now, the war between his former lord and the enemy daimyo should've long been over. Whether or not peace came upon the land or if more wars followed, the road should've been cleared. It's one of the major arteries of the country, the way it spans its entire coastline. It doesn't make sense, the way it is now.

Wolf makes his way down the road.

More weapons, more skeletons. The further he gets, the more his hackles rise. Everything gets quieter, more still. No birds singing or flying overhead. Nothing around him moves. Not even the wind blows.

When buildings creep into view, he finds nothing be decomposed, petrified remains of what used to be homes. Everything is abandoned and in utter disrepair. Wolf scuffs a chunk of wood across the dirt by accident, and winces as the clatter echoes. Every time he peers into a hut, he half-expects a vermin to leap out at him. He can't tell if it's the silence that's setting him on edge, or if there really is something in the air.

Eventually, he tracks down some yukata hidden away in a chest. There's a small bag of sen, which he pockets, and what looks diaries, which he flips through briefly and finds nothing but meaningless chatter. He grabs a green yukata and begins wrapping it around him. It feels almost alien, putting on clothes again. Somehow, his hands still remember what to do, even if they fumble too many times. The material of the yukata feels heavy and scratchy on his skin even though he's worn far heavier and far less comfortable attire before. Wolf wonders about his children. No doubt they'll complain about the obi. 

He steps out of the hut feeling like there’s a second skin draped over him. He stares down the road back towards the beach, where his children are. He turns and heads further into the village, for reasons he can’t entirely articulate.

Wolf doesn't know what he's looking for. He doesn’t know what that tightness in his chest is when the scenes of war give way to an unmistakable trail of destruction. Smashed houses, mangled skeletons, and an enormous furrow carved into the earth. Grass and weed grow around the furrow, but the inside of it is completely barren. Wolf looks inside.

A black substance pools at the center. It gleams in the sunlight like oil, as if it were still fresh.

Wolf follows it all the way to the fortress.

It would've been where his former lord launched his invasion into the rest of the country. It was where he had overheard them talking about Genichiro, what got him into this whole mess. Wolf heads up the road and into the courtyard, and there’s no way he can miss the talismans. They're hanging over the gates and plastered against the walls, layers upon layers of arcane texts peeling away in the ocean breeze. Several older layers are obscured beneath the black oil.

A hole has been smashed into the main building. He already know what's in there, he had known from the very start. But he has to make sure. He needs to see it with his own eyes.

Wolf steps inside.

* * *

"Well, shit," Cicada says. "The Pale Lady wasn't exaggerating after all. The monsters are _hungry._ "

The monster reminds Wolf a little bit of a dolphin, except there are limbs where the fins should be and an explosion of tentacles at its face. It's big enough to nearly span the main building, from side to side and floor to ceiling. There are all manners of seals hanging around it, but if they do anything at all, it seems superficial at best. The monster definitely isn't dead, given the occasional rumble of breath, but it doesn't seem awake either. It hadn't responded when Wolf brought his children over, or when Midori had poked at it with their spear until Wolf hissed frantically at them.

"That's enough," he sighs, and Cicada gives him that _But I'm RIGHT_ look. And it's true: they are right. Wolf had spent so long differentiating between two halves of his lives, from when he lived on land and when he lived in the ocean, that he completely forgot they were still a part of the same world. A goddess beneath the sun unleashed her rage, and ancient things at the bottom of the abyss are waking up — all things agitating the monsters, forcing them out of the darkness. Of course there would be one here, in Japan.

"Why would they leave it here?" Cicada asks, caught between amused and derisive. "I mean, look at it. This thing is practically a sunfish on its side. Are they _worshipping_ it? Your people do that, right? Do they think this thing is a god?"

"No. I don't think so." Wolf gazes down at it, hand resting on his blade tucked into his obi. "A vermin would already be hard enough to kill on land. A monster would be nearly impossible. We don't have anything like the black blades either. Our weapons wouldn't be able to get through its hide."

Cicada makes a thoughtful noise. They take a step closer to the monster, thumb running over the handle of their blade. It had been quite the learning experience for all of them, getting his children into the yukata. They're still picking at it with moody looks, but.... it's definitely something to see them in proper clothes. Cicada looks good in blue.

"So what's the plan, then?" They ask. "We could kill it now, and carve it up right here. It'll be a pain dragging it back to the ocean, and you'll probably have to find us all new clothes, but it'll be safe. Slow, but safe. Or we can wake it up now and have it follow us back to the beach, and—“

"No. Kill it here." He isn't about to have an enraged monster chasing after his children, when they've only been walking for a few hours. They may have gotten used to it a lot faster than he had expected, but still. He won't risk it.

Cicada nods. They click their tongue, and their siblings immediately fall in line behind them, raising their weapons. Wolf braces himself for the inevitable scream, these things never die quietly—

_"Stop."_

Wolf doesn't know why the words come out. His children blink at him, baffled. Wolf blinks back. Something at the back of his skull crackles, like sparks of electricity skittering away after a bolt of lighting strikes the ground. He knows this feeling. He'd spent his whole life sharpening it to a razor fine point—

"Someone's coming."

Wolf grabs the closest child — Snake — by their sleeves. The rest follow as he drags them into another room, out of view. 

His children's confused expressions harden as footsteps become audible. Not one, but several. _Many_. Enough to make the earth rumble as they get closer and closer. Wolf feels one of his children tense, and he reaches out to squeeze their arm tight. The footsteps build until they become a roar. Vivid flashes of red confuse Wolf’s line of vision. 

Before long, people begin marching into the building. Soldiers and samurai. All of them in full armor, bristling with weapons. They look like an army going off to war, like they should be in an open field instead of this dilapidated, cursed building. The monster stirs, growling as its tentacles begin to writhe.

Wolf isn't surprised when a few soldiers try to enter the room. It has a good vantage point of the monster, after all. Wolf punches the first one in the throat, and his children knock out the next two. They dump the bodies in a corner just as it starts going quiet outside.

A voice calls out. Deep and commanding, the kind used to making speeches. Wolf looks, and sees a priest approaching the monster with an almost arrogant abandon. And behind him — women. _Girls._ Four of them, all dressed up like young brides on their way to get married before the eyes of the gods. 

An awful understanding begins to settle.

Wolf doesn't listen to whatever flattery the priest offers to the monster. Too many thoughts are running through his head, trying to figure out what he should do, or if anything needs doing at all. They're surrounded on all sides by an army ready to react at the slightest movement. And on the other side of the sliding door he and his children are gathered behind, there's a monster. Granted, one that's unbelievably docile despite being surrounded by easy prey. If said prey has found that the best way to keep the monster complacent is by offering up girls in sacrificial marriage, then who is he to say otherwise? He's sacrificed his own children to the abyss for the sake of the world.

Next to him, Cicada shifts. They bend their knees, gathering energy in their legs like they're about to push off. Wolf grabs them by the shoulder and squeezes until his nails dig into flesh. Cicada throws them off with a snarl. The way they look at him hurts, but at least it breaks their focus on whatever they plan on doing.

The monster turns towards the priest. Its tentacles wriggle through the air like feelers, searching and tasting. The priest looks completely unfazed. But those girls, beneath their flawless shiromuku and immaculate white makeup and delicate red lips, _they're terrified_. One looks absolutely shattered, as if she's leaking out through old cracks.

Wolf wonders if any of his children ever looked like that in their final moments.

The door flies open, and Ume hurls their spear through the opening.

The monster shrieks as it sinks into its hide. It's a noise that Wolf has heard before, enough that he stays standing as everyone else freezes and cowers. And then a limb slams down into the ground, throwing up splinters and rotten tatami mats, and everyone jolts back to life. The girls scream as the soldiers shout and raise their weapons. The creak of bowstrings stretched taut and the slide of swords against their scabbards add to the din. 

Once upon a time, Wolf would've known what to do. He would've taken advantage of the chaos to escape, or he might not have been able to resist playing the role of a hero. Throw firecrackers at it to distract it, let it have a taste of the blade his father had given him. Maybe poison to burn off its flesh, or the whistle that one of his mentors had given him to drive it into a frenzy. He would've done something. He wouldn't freeze up like now, afraid for reasons he can't say.

His children make the move for him. 

Ume dashes out and up the monster with far more grace than they should have. They wrench the spear out, dance towards the tentacles, and rams it back into that writhing mess. The monster screams again, this time out of rage. Ume circles around it, the monster dragging its bloated body to follow. They push past a group of soldiers back into the sun, and the beast gives chase.

Cicada, Snake, and Midori dart out after them. Wolf has no choice but to follow. Behind him, he can hear the soldiers shouting. 

He makes it to the beach in time to see his children wading into the water, ripping off their yukata and twirling their weapons. The monster chatters and rumbles as it drags itself into the ocean after them. Somehow, it seems even bigger out here in the open.

His children fall into the water. They don't get back up. The monster vanishes after them. Wolf stumbles into the water until the waves are rolling against his knees, as if trying to push him back. There's a shout, and when he turns to look, he sees a group of armored men charging onto the sand. He forces his way into the water, following the monster's roars.

It doesn't take long before boats infest the surface. Soldiers and samurai looking for him and his children. A few faces peek underwater, searching. Wolf swims deeper and away.

He doesn't have to wait long. The monster's roars go from angry to pained to nothing at all. His children's singing fills the water, and to his eternal relief, they're back at his side. Not a single scratch on them, all flush with the thrill of battle and victory. Their gold and blue scales gleam in the sun like jewels. Cicada is bearing an armful of weapons, no doubt pulled from the monster's bowels.

His stomach clenches as Cicada swims up to the surface, straight towards the boats. Midori grabs his arms when he tries to go after them, crooning. The look on his children's faces is warm and reassuring, but it doesn't stop him from fearing the worst. To fight a monster is one thing. To openly engage with humans is something else entirely.

But eventually, Cicada returns. The weapons are gone. They beam at him, and take his hand and pull him away.

* * *

Later, after putting enough distance between them and the army, Wolf asks Cicada what they did with the weapons.

"I gave them to your people," they say. "I figured they needed it more than we did, and it would've been a waste to just let it all fall back into the abyss. Gave them a couple of tips too."

They say it proudly, like they had just done something _good._ Wolf feels something inside of him snap.

"Do you have any idea how foolish that was?" He hisses. Hurt and disbelief comes over Cicada's face, smile falling away. Before they can defend themselves, Wolf whirls on Ume. "And _you._ How could you just run out like that? Now they know what we look like. They're going to know what to look for."

"The monster was gonna eat them!" Ume protests, just as Cicada says, "Well I'm sorry for trying to help them, you said so yourself, their weapons—“

"They're going to look for us," Wolf says, slow and dark enough they both fall silent. "And if they find us, they're going to— they—“

How is he supposed to explain it to them? How dangerous it is for them to be something other than human on land? How they'll be regarded with fear and suspicion by commoners, how samurai and nobles will try to take advantage of them _at best_? This isn't home, where they all came from the same parents and they're all the same species and they're all united against something else outside of them. Here, they are the something else. The five of them against an entire country.

"My people — they're not going to welcome you. If you're lucky, they'll just run away from you. If not, they’ll try and eat you."

His children blink at him wordlessly.

Wolf gestures back out into the ocean. "See if you can bring me some pearls. I have to find new clothes for you."

As they head back into dark waters, he turns and makes his way towards a small footpath tucked betwen two trees. 

There's a town further inland, one that's actually alive and bustling. Except it looks less like a town and more like a military camp, what with all the watchtowers brimming with guards and an entire wall formed out of sharpened logs. No doubt it's to guard against the monsters from the ocean, but that doesn't stop Wolf from eavesdropping. Once he's certain they don't know anything about him and his children _yet_ , he slips past the gate and into the town.

It's still sundown. Plenty of people wandering the streets, lights shining through open windows. What it lacks in color and vibrancy, it makes up for in noise and smell. The heavy, sour stench of too many people in one place. The voices that seems to come at him from all directions and refuses to abate. Wolf waits until night falls and the only people wandering the streets are guards. He loots the town until his arms are straining under the weight of everything he's managed to grab, and somehow manages to slip back out unseen. 

His children are waiting on the beach. If they had complained when he put them into yukata, they're absolutely whining at having to pull on hakama and socks. Wolf can't help but sympathize with them a little, but it has to be done. He needs to make them into convincing travelers.

Their weapons are wrapped in linen and strapped to their backs. He shows them how to tie the various knots holding everything together, and makes sure to cover every inch of scarred flesh beneath fabric. A comb is used to smooth out his children's hair, before he pulls them all into braids. Cutting their hair into something shorter may be more manageable and serve as disguises, but they had spent so long growing it out that Wolf can't abide the thought of it. When morning comes, Cicada is still picking at their socks, Midori won't leave their obi alone, Snake fidgets at their armpits, and Ume keeps pulling down the hood meant to hide the scars that go all the way up to their ears, but it's _something_ and that's all Wolf can ask for at this point. He takes them to town, to a completely different world. 

They get inside easily enough. No one stops them or even looks at them. Wolf takes the pearls they had gathered and starts trading it for essentials: food, maps, medicine, and cloaks. Wolf keeps his children close to him like they're still babies suckling at his chest, just waiting for one to bolt as soon as he takes his eyes off them. The way they look around with so much wonder makes him nervous — he can't see any trace of fear in their eyes.

At one point, he takes them to a blacksmith. Like their scars, their weapons would be dead giveaways, but he isn’t about to travel unarmed. Wolf is haggling with the shopkeeper over the pile of katana and tanto he had chosen, when the door rattles open and loud voices fill the shop. His heart sinks when he turns to look.

Samurai, young and brash. His children don't avert their eyes and move out of the way. They just look at them, lips quirked in curiosity and amusement.

Without another word, Wolf slips another five pearls into the shopkeeper's palm. He grabs his goods under one arm, Midori's hand in the other. He bows his head and mutters an apology as he steps around the samurai, who barely even look at them.

He distributes the katana and tanto among his children, and helps them attach it to their sides. The weight of his own sword at his hip is both alien and familiar, like his body is trying to remember. Snake grumbles about being hungry, so he takes them a food stall. As they indulge in grilled octopus and fish, Wolf begins to count how much sen they still have left. 

"Dad." Wolf looks up. Cicada cocks an eyebrow at them. "Is everything okay?"

He blinks. Shakes his head. "Yes."

"Really? Because that's probably the first time you looked up from the ground the whole day. Is something wrong? Do you need to stop for a bit? Have you eaten anything at all yet?"

Having his children fuss over him instead of the other way around is a strange thing. Wolf bites back his annoyance. "Maybe I'm a little hungry," he admits. "Stay here. I won't be long."

The vendor smile as he approaches. He drops a couple of sen into her hand, and gestures towards some fish. His mind wanders as he waits, staring blankly into the grill. It takes him a moment to realize he's being spoken to.

"Travelers, are you?" The vendor asks conversationally. "Where are you headed?"

Wolf hesitates. "North," He says, right before the pause grows long enough to become awkward. "To see family. It's been a long time. Do you.... know what it's like up there right now?"

The stall keeper hums. "Not a lot, unfortunately. I spent my whole life in this town. But if you want to know what the road is like, you should be fine. There haven't been any wars since Tokugawa became shogun, and as long as you keep close to the mountains, you'll be alright. Those demons coming out of the ocean have long scared off any armies or bandits that might've given you any hassle."

* * *

Wolf doesn't relax until they put the town behind them.

The road isn't empty, but it isn't anywhere near as crowded as the town. He can finally breathe all the way into his lungs without his stomach turning, and he doesn't have to fight through a dozen voices just to hear his own. Colors come back, green grass and warm little flowers softening all the brown. Wolf smiles as his children stop and lose their minds over a friendly cat looking for attention.

When they reach a checkpoint, Wolf lets his children indulge in dumplings at a nearby shop as he eavesdrops on some guards nearby. And to his dismay — but not to his surprise — he hears them discussing new orders that had just come in. The daimyo of the province is looking for anyone who matches his family's description: five individuals, long-haired, covered in strange markings, bearing deadly black blades. As soon as his children finishes their snack, he leads them back out the way they came and takes to the wilderness.

They have questions, of course. Wolf does his best to explain, but it's clear there's a chasm that none of them are able to cross. They just don't understand why it's so important they all stay hidden. But to his relief, their questions give way to silent awe as they move further and further away from civilization.

Trees tower overhead, and beyond them, the mountains reach high enough into the sky that clouds bend around their peaks. His children gape at squirrels, rabbits, deer, and boars whenever wild animals drift across their paths. They soon learn how to copy birdsongs with startling and hilarious accuracy. When they come across a small pond beneath a waterfall, they are _dazzled_. Wolf sits nearby as they enjoy an afternoon swim, and he doesn't quite know what to tell them when they say the water tastes strange.

They keep as far away from civilization as possible. Wolf teaches them how to hunt, because the four of them put away enough food that he's roasting deer or boar every night. A few nights, they're lucky enough to come across a shrine or a temple, but otherwise, they sleep beneath the stars. His children ask him how the land came to be, and Wolf tells them as many stories as he can remember,

For a long time, it feels like he's in a dream. A good dream.

One day, as they're walking along the shore of a lake, they hear a woman crying for help.

His children turn towards the water, staring into the heavy mist. As the wail fades, they all share a look, and Cicada shrugs. Wolf grabs them by the shoulder before they can even take a step.

Cicada gives them an exasperated look that Wolf is becoming far too familiar with. "Really? There is literally someone screaming for help."

"I know," Wolf says. "I know. Just — wait a moment, alright? Just listen."

The cry comes again. Loud and desperate, the kind of stark fear that makes his skin crawl. But there's also that feeling of electric sparks at the back of his head, something screaming at him to not go near the water, don't even look at it. The crying hitches, another 'help' breaking through. It sounds so close. Couldn't they just swim back to shore in that case? Who would even be out here, so deep in the forest on such a murky day?

"I've heard enough," Cicada says, shrugging him off. They lean down to untie their sandals, close enough they could touch the surface of the lake if they reached out. The crying grows louder, on the verge of a scream. Wolf feels like his instincts are going to gnaw their way out of his skin.

He grabs them by the elbow. Cicada lets out an affronted yelp as he yanks them away from the lake. They dig their heels in and wrench him off, whirl on him, eyes blazing, and Wolf waits for the inevitable shouting—

"I just saw something," Snake calls out, voice hard.

Suddenly, it's very quiet.

Cicada falters. Wolf grabs their hand and drags them back into the forest. Something loud splashes behind them, but he doesn't stop to look. It's only when those sparks stop going off in his head that he finally lets go. As Cicada quietly reties their sandals, he searches for the words that his children will understand.

"There are monsters on land too," he finally says.

* * *

They arrive to the Usui Forest in autumn.

Most of Japan is dominated by mountains, but there's something especially treacherous about the place Wolf had grown up in. Sheer peaks graze the sky, and ravines dig so deeply into the earth that the noon sun shines like the full moon at its deepest point. Rapids swirl around the base of the mountains, and on most days, a heavy mist blankets everything as if the earth's own breath is fogging up. Clinging to the sides of the mountain is a thick, dense forest. Nothing but pines trees, growing on top of each other as if trying to suffocate the competition. Sunlight rarely ever reaches past the leaves. 

When they crest the top of a hill and Wolf finally lays eyes upon its entirety, he doesn't know what to call that hollow feeling blooming in his chest.

It takes most the day to find a way around the rapids. Wolf has seen people playfully stick a foot in it, only to get swept away and never come back up. His children's carefree expressions quickly become sober when he warns them about sharp rocks and boulders lining the sides and the bottom of the rapids. They may be mer, but he knows they'll likely be eviscerated and bludgeoned to death before they've even realized they're in the water.

They cross a little bridge, and hike up a dirt path snaking directly into the forest. It's dark enough that when Wolf looks back to check on his children, four pairs of gold eyes blink at him. Weathered shrines line their path, cracked and covered in thick layers of moss. Several times, he hears his children trill in annoyance as they trip over enterprising roots and walk straight into low branches.

It's nearly night when they finally arrive. The trees give way to a clearing, and at the center of the clearing is a temple. It's pressed right up against the base of the mountain, so small in comparison it's almost comical. Despite what it looks like, the temple is less a place of worship for Buddha, and more a form of communication to the outside world. Anyone seeking the services of the Usui clan would come to this temple and wait until a representative came to speak with them. Wolf knows how to get to the main village from here, but he knows better than to just wander into Usui territory.

The temple looks well maintained. Dusty, but otherwise intact and stable. Plenty of room for all five of them. His children groan and sigh with relief as they rest their aching legs.

Wolf is wondering what to do for dinner, when he sees Midori staring intently out the door. They have a hand on their tanto, grazing the hilt as if waiting to draw it. They don't look at him when Wolf heads over. He follows their line of sight, and sees a stag and a doe standing at the boundary of the clearing. 

"Dinner," Midori whispers, grasping their knife. Wolf has seen them hunt: draw the tanto, and fling it through an eye. Definitely not what he had taught them, but it works.

He sets a hand on their shoulder before they draw it.

"Go inside," he says, firm enough that they don't argue. Midori gives him a look, but goes. Wolf closes the door behind them, waits to make sure that none of his children are trying to eavesdrop, and heads over to the stag and doe.

Normal deer would've bolted as soon as he took as step. These two stare him down, nothing but dark unblinking eyes. Wolf comes to a stop in front of them.

"My name is Wolf," he tells them. "I was adopted into the Usui clan many years ago, by Owl. I.... wish to speak with him."

They're in a clearing, but the sky has grown dark enough that he knows his Night Eye has been activated. He and the deer are silent as they size each other up. But eventually, they both bow their heads and step into the darkness.

Wolf goes back to his children.

"Who were you talking to?" Cicada asks as he steps into the temple. "Did you kill those deer? We're starving."

Wolf blinks at them. The tiny laugh that comes out surprises them all. "Those weren't just animals," he says. "They were members of the Usui clan. Shapeshifters. Like you."

* * *

Wolf doesn't sleep that night. 

He knows what the Usui clan is like. Secretive, and protective of their own to an almost absurd degree. One of their own — and not even of their blood, no less — coming back from the dead, and asking for audience with someone who would one of the primary elders of the clan by now? He wouldn't be surprised if they all woke up with a knife in their back.

The night passes slowly. A few times, the electric sparks go off at the back of his head, and he reaches towards his sword. His children somehow remain asleep, dead to the world. After everything they had endured, he thought their instincts would've been honed to a razor sharp point, but apparently not. Wolf keeps his gaze trained on the door, scarcely daring to even blink. 

Morning arrives. Wolf doesn't relax until the first rays of sunlight directly strike the door. As his children begin to stir, he breathes out, aching shoulders sagging. He steps out. 

A man and a woman, standing at the edge of clearing. Both are dressed in shinobi attire, as if in the middle of a mission. As they stare at each other, Wolf prays that his face gives nothing away. He reaches behind him and prods his children awake.

The man and the woman look on in silence as they pack everything up and get ready for a long hike. When Wolf approaches them, his children hanging behind with faintly suspicious looks, they both incline their heads.

"I am Stag," the man says.

"And I am Doe," the woman says.

"We'll be taking you to our village," they say.

"Thank you," Wolf replies, and he sincerely wonders if what on earth that hollow feeling in his chest is.

They head up the mountain. At this point, there are no roads. The slope is steep enough that Wolf soon finds himself winded, and there are enough branches and roots in the way that his children turn their katana into glorified gardening tools. Stag and Doe seem completely unaffected, their faces a perfect blank. Good shinobi, by Usui standards. Wolf wonders who had taught them. 

There are a number of ways into the village. He quickly figures out the path they had chosen, when the trees suddenly end at a waterfall. Next to the waterfall is a flight of stairs chiseled straight into the stone, which in turn ends at a tiny path made out of wooden planks clinging to the face of a ravine. Below them, a mighty river churns white and frothy like ocean waves. Wolf looks across the chasm to the other side, and laughs. 

"What's so funny?" Cicada grumbles.

Wolf gestures across. "Do you see those wooden poles sticking out of the rock? When I was younger, my mentors used to train me and my peers by having us run along them. It was meant to enhance our balance and speed."

A pause. Cicada looks across the ravine, back at him, back at the ravine again, and then finally settles with staring at him. "Those little things? What if you fell?"

"Then we fell into the river below," Wolf replies easily.

"You say that like you fell a bunch of times."

"How else do you think I was able to keep up with of all you when you were younger?" He asks, and all four of his children immediately erupt into laughter.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Stag and Doe briefly turn to glance at them. Something unspoken passes between the two of them, before they turn away.

It's only a little past noon when they arrive.

Wolf is completely unprepared when the trees end and he's staring into a village. Simple little huts built along a relatively forgiving slope, vegetable gardens clustered around back and white columns of smoke seeping out of chimneys. It looks exactly like how he remembers. Maybe more colorful than it was in his memories, a little more crowded. His training never allowed him much time to appreciate the things around him. But looking at it now, it’s— it—

He keeps his head down as Stag and Doe lead them through the village. The weight of eyes on him is nearly unbearable, like dull knives trying to worm under his skin. His blood pounds loud enough through his skull he can't tell if there are whispers around him. That hollow feeling is spreading to his arms, his legs, locking up his knees, pooling in the ends of his fingers. Every time he breathes in, he smells something that throws him back into a different memory. Folding paper shurikens with his father, blinking back tears as another trainee rubs ointments into his scraped knees, focusing on the smell of pine to see through the illusion of flames building around him. He was brought here when he was nothing, and left to make something of himself.

And here he is again.

It takes him too long to realize that Stag and Doe aren't taking him to the hut he had grown up in with his father. Instead, they're headed to the buildings set aside for the clan elders. As he heads up the stairs, familiar faces begin swimming into view. All of them shocked and uncertain, like he's some kind of ghost. Wolf certainly feels like one, as if he's about to float right out of his own body.

Stag and Doe hold open the door, and Wolf somehow carries himself inside.

There's only one person in the room. A man. Old and near skeletal, barely anything more than loose skin and bones, but still bigger than him. He's always been bigger than everything else. And his hair, there's still so much of it, all of it gathered into a huge white braid. Wolf kneels at his side, like a servant kneeling before their master. Their eyes meet.

"Father," Wolf chokes out.

The Owl's eyes are still sharp. That impassive, critical gaze, the very same one that had been leveled at him when he was nothing more than a starving orphan wandering the battlefield. Wolf feels tiny beneath that gaze, even less than the orphan he had been.

A hand rests on his shoulder. Wolf blinks up into the concerned faces of his children. He takes Cicada's hand, holds it for a moment.

"I need you all to wait outside," he tells them.

After a moment, they go.

He waits until he hears the door close. He looks up at his father, whose expression betrays nothing. Wolf searches for the words, and the Owl waits, and finally, all he can say is, "I'm sorry."

It's not enough. It is not nearly enough. And so Wolf tells him everything. 

* * *

Hours later, Wolf stumbles out of the building.

That hollow feeling has settled into a numbness, one that makes him feel as if he'll be blown away in the next strong breeze. His father had said nothing when he told him about Genichiro, his children, the abyss, the White Tree and its mother, and all of his children who have died. The Owl didn't say a word until Wolf finally ran out of things to say, and only then did the Owl shake his head, sigh, and mumble, "I always wondered what happened to you."

That was it. Nothing else. Twenty years, and that was all the Owl had to say to him. Wolf doesn't know why he had expected anything else. He doesn't know what he wanted to hear. He doesn't know why he even bothered.

And so he left.

The sun is setting. The sky is still ablaze with orange, but the sun has fallen behind the mountains enough that lanterns have already been lit in the village. Wolf looks for his children as he drags himself down the steps, searching for four pairs of gold eyes, his babies. He looks and looks, and finds nothing. They're aren't here. Panic begins to rise over the numbness, thick and suffocating.

It's on the verge of spilling over and out through all the cracks when someone steps in front of him. Wolf blinks up at them, and he feels like he's underwater as they say, "Is that really you? What happened to you? Where did you go?"

He knows who they are. He does, he just can't remember how or what their name is. Badger? Raccoon? Tiger? Their questions don't sink in until the instant after they've been asked, and he can't, _he can't._ He needs his children. He needs them all in his arms.

"Where are they?" He chokes out, and they somehow understand enough to point him towards a hut further in the village.

There are children peeking inside. An entire gaggle of them, giggling and whispering to each other. They stare up at him as he approaches, utterly fearless and more curious than suspicious. He wonders where they all came from. Even in his youth, there hadn't been many children in the village. The endless wars took so many to so far away that some had to resort to adopting orphans.

"Excuse me," he says, as he steps around them.

Wolf nearly collapses with relief. His children are all inside, grinning as squeaking balls of fluff roll around in their laps. It takes him a moment to realize they're playing with fox cubs. Five of them, as friendly as puppies and agile as cats. A tiny laugh bubbles out of him when a cub tries to nose their way under Ume's shirt.

And then he hears, "Oh my goodness," and the moment is gone.

The fox cubs stop. One by one, they turn back into children. One is still too young to properly get it down, and she's left with a little pair of ears and a puffy tail. They scamper away, behind a woman who stands up and approaches him.

"Wolf?" She breathes. "Is that really you?"

He knows that voice. "Fox?"

She laughs. Covers her mouth with one hand, fanning her face with the other. They had trained together as children, worked together on a number of missions. Her specialty had been intelligence and espionage. She used to tell him where all of the enemies were, so that he could kill them.

Except — not anymore, it seems. She's older now. Put on some weight, too, the kind their lifestyle would've whittle away into lean muscles. And a mother, if those little ones peeking out from behind her legs are any indication.

"Come in," she says. "Come in, come in. You're just in time, I was about to serve dinner. Come on, now, don't just stand out there in the cold. It's so good to see you, you must have so much to tell us. Here..."

Wolf finds himself seated between his children. There's a bowl of rice in front of him, chopsticks neatly laid out across the rim. For a moment, he's so terribly relieved he had taken the time to teach his children how to properly eat. The first bite of warm makes something inside of him unfurl.

The first few questions from Fox are directed towards him. To his relief, Cicada intervenes, drawing the conversation away. It's been such a long day, Wolf doesn't know how much more he can take. Having to maintain their secret to a woman who specialized in selling secrets to daimyos and warlords — that might just be enough to break him.

As the night wears on and Cicada puts on a performance, Wolf's thoughts begin to wander

What is he supposed to do now? The whole point of this journey was so he could come see his father, and he's done just that. Except he'd never actually planned further than this — Wolf wonders if he ever expected to make it at all. He's far enough from the ocean that Genichiro wouldn't be able to drag him back, and he doubts his children would force him to return. And for a while, Wolf thinks about it, spending the rest of his life here. He would be among his people, wouldn't he? He'd be with his family.

* * *

That night, Wolf has a dream.

He's on the beach, staring up at the distant sun. The ocean is silent and still in front of him, and it smells like a storm is about to roll through. His feet sinks deep into the gray mud. Someone next to him laughs, and when he turns to look, it's the woman. Pale and surreal and divine.

She isn't alone. _They_ aren't alone.

They're surrounded by people. A few children, but mostly adults. Wolf stares at them, trying to focus, because they're little more than hazy figures. Dreams within a dream. But he knows them, he does, there's just something about them all that tears at his heart, makes him want to cry. He looks at them, and they look at him, and they smile and call out and—

There's a splash in the water. Wolf turns to look. One of the little ones, beaming up at him, reaching out. He smiles back as he kneels in front of them, and gathers them into his arms. As he lifts them out of the water, a splash of color catches his eye. They throw their arms around his shoulder. _A splotch of red—_

Wolf wakes up. 

A dark ceiling of wooden panels above him. Cold, hard earth underneath him. His children's soft breaths around him, heavy enough to make the room warm. Memories slowly dawn: Fox had offered up her shed to them, and after clearing out some equipment and a bout of thorough dusting, it was a good place to spend the night as any. Wolf blinks up at the ceiling, wondering what had woken him up and how he can go back to his dreams.

Sparks go off in his head, and he stares at the door.

It's open a crack. Just enough to let in moonlight and frigid air. After a long moment, whoever opened the door begins walking away. He can hear dirt crunching beneath their feet.

Wolf stands up. Peaks outside. He considers his options, before grabbing his tanto and concealing it under his robes. He steps out and makes his way over to the log pile by the hut, where Fox is waiting.

"Looks like you've still got it," she say, grinning. She produces a surprisingly large container of sake and two cups finer than any shinobi should have. "Drink with me?"

The sake burns as it goes down, but the taste is exquisite enough that he doesn't care. Fox laughs as she pours him another. "Stole it from a daimyo years ago," she tells him. "Kept trying to get me into his bed, so I figured stealing some alcohol straight from his reserves and his mother-in-law's heirloom set would be payment enough. I've been waiting for a good reason to break it out."

That's such a Fox thing to do he can't help but smile. He'd known her from when they were just children, when she used to follow him around pestering him for his name. He wonders who on earth managed to get her to settle down and start a family. Her children all have that slanted grin she wears whenever she about to do something incredibly stupid or mind-bogglingly smart — and there's _five_ of them, no less. 

As the sake flows, so does her tongue. Wolf is happy to listen, and offer the occasional comment. The warm buzz that comes over him is a pleasant shield against the night chill. The air has enough bite that he knows winter will be upon the region soon.

It's probably around the seventh or eighth cup that Fox's smile fades into something distant. "You know, Cicada is a good liar," she says. "He looked me in the eye, and told me that all of you came from Itsukushima. And for a moment, I actually believed him. But... whatever hapened to you, and where those kids came from, that's your business. I won't pry. But you're who the shogun is looking for, aren't you?"

Wolf goes cold. The buzz fades away into nothing but a pounding headache in his brainstem. Fox smiles ruefully. 

"My kids, they saw the scars. Said that it made their head hurts, whatever that means. And if I were to go and take a look at whatever you're keeping all bound up at their backs, I'd find some very unusual weaponry, wouldn't I? Black blades that can cut through anything, dancing around in your hands? You're still the worst liar I've ever met."

He could kill her. He's always been the better killer. He could draw his tanto before she even lets go of her cup, have her bleeding out before it hits the ground. His children have faced the abyss and survived, a single village wouldn't be able to bring them down. 

Fox shakes her head. She sets her cup down.

"They are your children, yes?" She asks.

He blinks. Nods.

"And the person who fathered them — are you fleeing them?"

The question catches him off guard. Partly because it's such a departure from the rest of the conversation, but also because the question itself.... how does he answer?

Fox continues. "Because if you aren't," she says. "Then you should go back. Because the rest of us, they're going to figure it out soon. And some of us might just be tempted to turn you over. Get into the shogun's good graces, be relevant again. It would be best if you left as soon as possible."

Wolf stares deeply into his drink, thinking.

* * *

They leave a few days later. 

Fox makes sure that all of their weapon are honed to Usui standards. She gives them some pocket money, enough food to take them to the next town, and then introduces his children to alcohol the night before they're supposed to leave. Wolf doesn't know how to feel about the fact they can hold enough alcohol to clear out all of Edo. He manages to stop them right before they decide to try their luck with Kyoto.

He doesn't visit his father again. There's nothing left for him there.

Fox takes them into the forest at sunrise. Her children tag along, running around as giggling children before dashing behind a tree and emerging as fox cubs tumbling around their feet. Fox gives in once, red and sleek and agile as she chases after them. He can see the temptation in his children's eyes, but to his relief, they don't try it. He doesn't want to test Fox's loyalty any further by presenting her with actual mermaids. Creatures of immortality.

They arrive to a large boulder. The center is wreathed by shimenawa and paper streamers, heavily frayed with age and exposure. Fox gestures downhill as she leans against it, smiling all quiet and forlorn.

"Just keep walking, and you should make it to the bottom by sundown," she says. "It's steep and definitely a lot longer than the ravine, but it's so much safer. Just don't turn around if something calls out your name."

Cicada scoffs. "What does that mean?"

"A lot of ghosts in these mountains," Fox tells them with a wink, and her children all laugh brightly at the expression on Cicada's face.

Goodbye takes longer than Wolf is comfortable with. Fox's children all demand hugs and promises that they'll come to visit, and his children agree to all that and promise even more. Fox and Wolf share only a look. He can't put her gaze into words.... but he knows this is the last time he'll ever see her.

He doesn't look back as they head down the mountain.

That hollow feeling returns. But instead of spreading to the rest of his body, it seems to retreat back into his chest. Every step they take closer to the bottom, the more it feels like he can breathe. For once, it's a sunny day instead of heavy mist. The trees occasionally part enough to let sunlight through.

Cicada remarks, conversationally, "A lot of stories in these mountains."

"Yes," Wolf replies.

"You probably know a few, right?"

"Yes."

"Do you want to tell us any.....?"

He's told them about Japan. Every mythology he can remember, everything he's seen in his life. He's passed down the teachings he could tolerate inflicting on them, and he'd made up stories when he ran out of new ones. But he's never, ever told them about himself. Now that he thinks of it, his own children know the abyss more than they do about him.

"Yes," Wolf says, after a long while.

* * *

They arrive back to the very beginning in winter.

Cicada had insisted. They wanted to plant their seed there, at that specific beach. Midori, Snake, and Ume can have the rest of Japan, but that one is theirs. They all agreed, and so Wolf was helpless to say no.

Snow begins to fall right as they get past Fukushima. Wolf is deeply amused when his children's awe for winter almost immediately turns into utter dismay and hatred. The snow and the cold drive them back towards civilization a number of times, but it’s still easy enough evading the shogun's men. The initial fervor had since died out, though it leaps every time there's news of another monster attack. 

It's the dead of winter when the ocean finally comes back into view — and with it, civilization. Wolf is dismayed to find that the once abandoned region is now crawling with soldiers and civilians, all determined to maintain their hold on the land. The bodies and refuse of war has been cleared away, and everything damaged by the monster is undergoing repairs. There's something desperate about the way everyone hunkers down, as if already bracing themselves for the next monster attack. Wolf wonders why they even bothered coming back at all.

"So what do we do?" Cicada asks one day, as they munch on grilled fish from a food stand. "No way we're planting that seed in secret. Maybe we could turn ourselves in and convince whoever's in charge."

"So they can eat us?" Midori grumbles. Wolf can _hear_ Cicada rolling their eyes.

He stays quiet as his children devolve into bickering. Standing next to him are two guards, gossiping freely. Their generals tote around those black blades like trophies because they can’t do anything else with them, there’s a depressing lack of attractive women who aren't prostitutes, and another shipment of shingles for the fortress is running late again. The sort of gossip that Wolf automatically filters out.

And then one says, "So you know that mermaid in the cove?” and Wolf snaps to attention. 

"What? Did the lieutenant go and bother it again?"

"Nah. They're saying it killed another one of those demons. Ran it through with its nodachi when it tried crawling onto shore, and pulled it back into the ocean. Apparently, General Nakamura is petitioning the shogun to have a shrine built for it. Like the one at Itsukushima."

"Good. Last thing we need is to piss it off."

"You say that like it isn't already pissed off...."

"Dad?" Wolf jumps when Cicada rests a hand on his shoulder. "Is everything alright?"

Silence. And then Wolf says, "We have to go."

He waits until nightfall. He takes his children to the cove, on the far side of the village. To his dismay, there are watchtowers constructed all around it, no doubt the first line of defense the next time a monster rises. He could get past them with some effort, but he knows his children can’t. They had been taught to go directly towards the danger, not skirt around it. Wolf tells them to wait for his signal, though he’s still trying to figure out what that signal is supposed to be when he arrives to the shore.

There’s no blockade this time. No bioluminescence darting around in dark waters. That was the one thing none of his children had inherited from Genichiro. They all have his face, his hair, his scales, his history, and his culture, but the one thing that made Wolf look at him for the first time, they don’t have. Instead, they have his eyes, the Night Eye — and he should be proud of that, he supposes.

He find a dark corner of the cove far enough away from the watchtowers that a patrol would have to go out of their way to discover him. Wolf crouches there, thinking. He could just go back into the water. Look for Genichiro himself, or make enough noise for Genichiro to find him. But that would mean having to take off all of his clothes and his swords and the trinkets he had picked up because they would get ruined otherwise, and Wolf just can’t abide that. He can’t.

After a long moment, he takes his sword, the one Genichiro had given him so long ago, and begins to unwrap it. Even in the dead of night, the black katana is still darker than anything else around it. He holds it carefully, because the last thing he needs is for it to twitch right out of his grip.

He hurls into the cove, and waits.

He doesn’t wait long.

A dark figure surfaces. It shuffles onto land, shakes its head, and pulls itself towards him. His Night Eye adjusts slowly, too slowly, but Genichiro’s face finally comes into view. He stops just a few inches from him, blinking slow like a cat. He lets out a little chirp as he pushes his katana towards him.

Wolf wonders if he got lonely. If he was worried about him leaving forever, or if he was scared for his eldest children. The last time Genichiro was here, humans had only been a few days away from slaughtering him like cattle. Wolf wonders what he would’ve done to bring him back into the ocean. If he was willing to scar himself like their children had.

It doesn’t matter. None of it does. Wolf reaches out and rests both of his hands on Genichiro’s face. He kisses him, and the whole world falls away.

He’ll go home, then. There’s nothing left for him in Japan. Their children are waiting for him, the living and the dead. He wants to go home.

And then—

Behind them, there’s a shout. Genichiro pulls away with a snarl. Wolf reaches for his katana as a trio of guards rush towards them. Their shouts of trespassing quickly fade when they see Genichiro. Wolf starts edging into the water.

His children are smart, he thinks. They survived the abyss. They’ll know to stay away, and head back into the ocean when it’s safe. He can come back for them later. Right now, he has to—

The group of three suddenly swells into half an army. Arrows on all sides, guns leveled at their heads, steel glinting in torchlight. Genichiro’s arm snakes around his waist. The noise that comes out of him makes even Wolf’s hackles rise.

There’s a samurai shouting commands at them. Wolf isn’t listening. He tightens his grip on his blade—

“I think that’s enough.”

Cicada pushes through the crowd. The ensuing silence is astonishing. 

Wolf knows there’s so much his children haven’t told him about the abyss. He knows there are things that he never wants to hear, never even wants to know it exists. He knows, instinctually, that for his children to have made it to the bottom, they would’ve had to look into the eyes of gods and lied straight to their faces. The kind of lies so convincing that reality twisted itself around to accept them as truths. 

He knew all of these things, but he never quite understood it until now. Cicada puts on their most winning smile, and the words that come out are exactly the right ones. Everything that everyone needed to hear, even Wolf. Promises that everyone wants, goals that everyone can works towards, outcomes that everyone needs. When Cicada produces the seed from the confines of their robes, the fear and rage that had turned the air electric suddenly dissipates into relief and hope. 

"We can save you," they say. "In ten years, you'll never see another monster again. They'll be asleep at the bottom of the world, and the sun and everything under it will be all yours. But before that, we need something from you."

"Yes, of course." The murmur sweeps through the army like ripples in a pond. "Anything at all."

Cicada smiles. "Wives. For me and my siblings."

Wolf goes very cold. 

The request is met by smiles and laughter. The leading samurai immediately offers up his eldest daughter, who had just become of marriageable age last month, and orders one of his officers to wake her and have her get ready. The crowd relaxes, swords returning to their sheathes and arrows going back into their pouches. Someone shouts about breaking out the sake, and people begin to step away.

Genichiro still has his arm around Wolf's waist. His eyes are no longer shot through with rage, but there's plenty of wary confusion. He surges into the water, knocking Wolf off balance and into his arms. As it comes up to his waist, Wolf calls out, _"Cicada!"_

They turn to him. Smile. His firstborn, his baby. They reach into their robes, rooting around. Right before the water comes up over his face and he's dragged back into the dark ocean, Wolf sees a little red fruit sitting neatly in the palm of their hand. 

**Author's Note:**

> The kids get their wives, Genichiro brings Wolf home, and the rest of their kids take the seeds and scatter them throughout the Pacific. I kind of imagine their children to settle among the various human communities that they meet, thereby bringing the formerly reclusive mer race out of extinction. But Cicada keeps their promise, and soon heads back home with a wife in tow. Genichiro and Wolf don't have kids anymore, Wolf is like in his 50s at this point, but they get plenty of grandkids from Cicada. Literally retiring in the tropics, the closest thing to a truly happy ending I'll allow in this fic.


End file.
